Open Your Heart
by planet p
Summary: As the present unfolds, the past is revealed. Pansy/Ron?
1. Chapter 1

**Open Your Heart**

by

planet p

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Warning

This story contains strong language and scenes of strong violence, substance abuse, and of mild sexual nature. It is not suitable for those under the age of sixteen.

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Disclaimer

All "Harry Potter" characters remain the property of JK Rowling.

The poems "The song of wandering Aengus" and "To night" remain the property of their respective writers, WB Yeats and Percy Shelley.

The songs "Open your heart", "Our song" and "Stop me and buy one" are sung by Jackie Trent and belong to their writers/composers.

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Author's Notes

_thought or memory_

**diary entry**

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Additional Author's Notes

Story Repost! First fanfiction ever! Written before the last book, _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_.

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**Prologue**

The girl sat on her bed, her legs crossed across her crinkled doona, her hands clasped in her lap. Her bottom lip started to tremble, her eyes full to the brim. A single tear slid down her cheek and dropped into her lap. "No!" she whispered. "No." A hand brushed the tears away angrily, but even as she gazed around the empty ward fresh tears started to form in those eyes dark as coal.

Memories invaded her lonely heart's miserable mood. Memories from the past, shadows of a life that had once been.

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_She was twelve. The institution had been her home for as long as she could remember. This didn't worry her, not any more. She had never known her parents. This no longer mattered either. Although she liked to think that even if her parents did not love her, they did at least love each other, which she knew was probably just a childish fantasy. Dear sweet Alistair, as she referred to him as in her letters, often wrote and told her of the things he had done and not done. He was very funny and she thought one day that she would like to meet another person who would be just as funny and kind._

_It was the day before school was due to start that she first set foot in Diagon Alley, London. Was it ever exciting? She loved it from the moment she saw it, especially the book store and the apothecary. She didn't much like Quidditch. Heights made her queasy. Claudia from Ward 34 was taking her out for the day to get her school things. She liked Claudia. Claudia liked chocolate and board games and a man called Peter who she said had died. It was a usual autumn day and this pleased the girl. The bookstore was very crowded when they entered it. Claudia bumped into a man with long blonde hair and grey eyes. The man didn't even say sorry, just pushed past her as though she wasn't even there. Unfortunately he stepped into the girl's path now, and got very grumpy, mumbling something about being held up by inbreds. The man stared down at the girl and caught her eye. She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to be sick. The man took her by the arm to move her out of his way, but she started screaming and hollering for her life. She didn't want him to touch her. She bit and scratched and clawed. Needless to say the man got the Hell out of there. Claudia looked shocked, but wasn't angry because she saw how frightened the man had made the girl. The rest of the day Claudia kept the girl from wandering off. She didn't want her making another scene like that last one. The girl was very quiet. The last agenda of the day was to get a wand. Claudia made up a song about the wand man which she hummed. Passers-by thought Claudia was mad. Claudia stuck her tongue out at them and made the girl laugh. The wand shop was called Ollivanders. The man who sold wands was a bit scary. The first wand she tried was made of Sycamore, but they didn't agree, and neither did the man like all the glass windows in his shop blowing out. The second one, made of Peach wood, faired a little better than the last, but also succeeded in making the girl throw up as she was lifted into the air in a whirl wind and landed back down on the counter with an ungracious thump. The man seemed to think the Peach was a good choice, much to Claudia's dismay and disillusion. The girl just wanted to be out of the shop as quick as she could. She was already so red in the face if she got any redder she was sure she would transform into a tomato with a tiny pop._

_Then her things were packed and she was packed off to Hogwarts from Platform Nine and three-quarters in a rickety old purple steam train that looked more like a tourist operation rather than an instrument of public transport. The girl developed a dislike for train travel almost immediately and had to bring out the ginger to stop herself from puking on the first person she met. She found a carriage with a few girls who looked very ill-favoured, and was thankful that all they did was shoot her disdainful looks._

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She was going back home, back to Hogwarts. The medical institute had never really been home. It was just a place she lived. In her heart there was this yearning for some other place, her home, but as it stood she had not yet found this elusive place and Hogwarts was the closest she'd come to doing so. So she was going back. She lay down in her cold bed but did not sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Train of Thought**

Her face was pale. A tiny hand reached up, shaking, cool on clammy. Countryside whirled past unnoticed; autumn leaves, slumbering hills, golden fields – a blur to her eyes. The girl was lost in a world separate to that of her body, lost in the empty corridors of her mind.

The sun peeked through the smoky clouds for a moment, the way a child plays peek-a-boo, a cheeky smile, a nervous giggle. Sun beams were turned to ice on her cheeks; got lost in the dark of her eyes, never returned to wink and sparkle mischievously; melted in the river of silent tears. The girl sniffed now; brushed those shameful tears away hastily, a dirty stain upon a stark black sleeve.

The girl gazed at her reflection in the dusty glass, oddly alive by the rattling of the carriage upon old certain tracks. Short black hair that fell sharply above her eyes and shoulders, large black eyes like some giant mutant bug, thin boysenberry lips… That tiny hand reached up and beat the glass, small brown fingernails curled into soft white pale, digging deep into the warm flesh. Over, and over, and over. Smack. Bam. Whack. Wham. And so much anger that she cannot see.

A voice murmurs in melancholy, the pain betrayed in those shaking words; harsh with regret, sparse of happiness, and stark as day.

"_Thy brother Death came, and cried,_

_Wouldst thou me?_

_Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed,_

_Murmured like a noon-tide bee,_

_Shall I nestle near thy side?_

_Wouldst thou me? – And I replied,_

_No, not thee!_"

Pale hands in dark hair, ripping, ripping. That voice again now screams in anger, in disillusion. She cannot see the way to go. Those eyes are dark as night, and all the lamps have been yet extinguished.

oOo

The girl stood, wiped her eyes on her top, no longer caring. The compartment door slid open, fitfully as if rudely awakened from sleep. The hall was chill, bitter. The door slid shut, the compartment now empty. Uncertain footsteps took the girl forwards. Ahead a door slid open. A snatch of conversation, the racket of laughter, drifted to her ears lazily. A tall boy with long red hair and freckles on his nose smiled, turned and slid the door shut. The girl hid her face, stared at her black school shoes, brown laces, feverishly polished, cracked and old. She did not want the boy to see the mascara that had run down her face like great ugly rail lines, the redness of her eyes, the frown crinkled across her brow, the splitting headache, the sobbing breaths.

He came towards her, shabby boots and robes too short, maroon Bell Bottoms sticking out below the unbuttoned robes, a long sleeved tee-shirt and short-sleeved checkered shirt over this. He tossed his head idly, his hair following suit in tangling confusion. A hand brushes the hair absent-mindedly from his mouth, a joyous smile, sweet and innocent to prying eyes, as if in remembrance of some long forgotten time.

The girl diverted her eyes hastily as the boy drew nearer, fearful that he would catch her looking and that smile would turn to a scowl, those brown eyes suddenly turned against her.

"Oi!" the boy shouted out in anger. The girl was knocked to the floor; her hands flew out behind her to break the fall and scraped on wood, warm blood mingled with cold sweat on her rouged hands. She winced, tiny splinters of wood embedded deep beneath the warm flesh; pinning, twisting, turning, stinging.

The dark hair strewn across her face distorted her discontent from the boy. The boy stopped and stared at the girl, hesitant. Out of better judgement, a hand reached down. She shrugged it away; scrambled to her feet, sparing the boy the need to touch her, to lower himself. She sniffed but did not look at him, passed silently by and continued on her way to the bathroom.

"Wait!" The boy caught her up. Her heart nearly failed her. She wished he would just leave her alone. "Are you okay?"

She did not stop. Mumbled, "Fine," and did not look around.

"Oh," he paused, "I'm glad." The cheerfulness had gone from his face. He turned, on his way.

"I…" the girl began, but stopped, wishing she could kick herself. "What about you?" She dared not sound cheerful.

The boy shrugged. "Grand."

She opened her mouth. "I… I'd better go." But the words never reached her lips. Instead she just stood there, still as any stone, the sleeves drawn up over her bloody palms. The boy looked at his feet awkwardly, and then turned and left. The girl stood for a while, watched as he disappeared from view, her face blank. Then she turned, a small smile upon her lips, and went on her way.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Run In**

The girl stood in the tall darkened hall by a large window. The sun would rise soon. A slight breeze passed idly up the hall. She shivered and rubbed her exposed arms, the sleeveless satin nightdress sticking to her solid frame, maroon against pale skin.

She sighed silently and turned away from the approaching dawn; did not see the scanty grey clouds draped across the heavens as an old rag tossed over a bird cage, the blinking stars, the chill moonlight. She shrugged away night's end and faded into shadows, to embrace the silence, her soft footsteps dwindling into nothingness.

Brisk footsteps approached from a corner to her right. She stopped and listened. She was supposed to be in bed and was in "direct violation of curfew". Wandering the corridors at night would fetch you a hefty detention these days. She quickly ducked into the nearest available room. After trying two locked doors, the third one opened. Third times a sure thing! She smiled to herself, glad of her sudden luck. She leant with her head against the door, its hard surface stubborn against her spine. The footsteps passed by without pause. The girl let her breath out. Her eyes darted around the room in haste and landed on a tall figure before her. At first she could have sworn it a statue; it did not move and it was covered in darkness, its features distorted. Then, over her own racing heart beat, she heard its soft breathing. She froze.

"What are you doing in here?" It was a boy.

"Trying not to get caught by McGonagall." Her voice was a whisper.

"You're not a boy." He was indignant.

She snorted in laughter; her hand jumped to her mouth. "No, but I've always wanted to be one; carry on the family name, you know?"

"This is the boy's toilets." The boy wasn't laughing.

She calmed herself enough to reply. "Oh. I'm dreadfully sorry if I interrupted you doing your hair or anything." There was a sharp intake of breath. She tossed her head. "Get over it! Gawd, boys are so annoying! Worse than pixies and pocket watches put together."

The boy muttered something and his wand lit, casting the room in a soft moon-like glow. His brown eyes narrowed as he recognised who she was. "I could tell her."

"Do it then. Ah, no, see – then you'd have to explain why you're out of bed." She twisted her head from side to side as she said this, moving steadily closer to him as she did. "Wouldn't you?" She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him into the wall.

He stared down into her wide black eyes. "Don't touch me!"

"Why? Scared you'll get germs?"

"That's right – germs from a filthy Slytherin, just like that filthy Snape."

The girl's smile widened. "You got something against my lover?"

The boy choked on his breath. "Love… Lover?"

She remained deadly serious. "Lover!" She tossed her head back as she hissed this, a tiny hand sliding under her skirt. The boy scowled and tried to escape her. She placed a hand on either side of him to block his exit. "Uh-ah. Why the rush?" Her overlarge dark eyes fell on his. "Cat got your tongue? Aren't you going to answer a lady?" She tutted to herself. "Where are your manners?"

"You're not a lady!" he spat at her viciously. "You're a-"

"A slut?" She knew she was right. "So is that what they say about me? Malfoy's slut, I expect." When the boy did not answer she leaned in close to him, their faces barely inches apart. He could feel her hot breath on his face. "Am I right?" She smiled triumphantly. "Too afraid to tell me to my face? Think I'll cry?" She laughed eerily. She walked away, to the centre of the room, as if in thought, and then turned back to the boy. Her eyes were alight as if in sudden inspiration. "Do you think I'm pretty?" The boy looked disgusted. "Do you want to touch me?"

"You're disgusting!" he blurted out.

She rolled her eyes, her hands on her breasts. "But surely not as boring as that know-it-all, perfect little primrose you keep the company of. If ever I have met anyone more dreary in my life I am yet to recall."

The boy lunged at her, seizing her by the upper arms. "You leave Hermione out of this!"

The girl's eyes widened. "Oh, I see, you like her. How sweet." She scowled. "Stupid bitch trying to steal my man away, eyeing him like that all the time, with her repulsive eyelash fluttering…"

"You're sick, you know that?" He squeezed her arms tighter and shook her. "Hermione hates Draco-"

The girl laughed. "You poor deluded boy! She's really got you going, hasn't she? You see, if you weren't in Gryffindor House, I might feel sorry for you. But… as it stands, 'fraid not - not a tinsy incy wincey pinch. MY SEVERUS, YOU IDIOT!"

Smack! She reeled away from the boy, her head stinging. "Don't say his name to me again! Do you understand?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "You think you're so so clever. A big Gryffindor prefect. You make me sick!" Her words reverberated around the room for a moment.

He stormed across the room, chucked her against the wall, and hit her head into the hard stone. "Don't! You! Insult! Me! You stupid bitch!"

Her eyes had gone wide in her face. Tears welled up and fell down her cheeks. She started to sob. The boy threw her away from him, repulsed. She scrambled to a dark corner, her arms curled around her knees, rocking back and forth. The boy stormed out. She was alone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Pop Quiz**

Ron sat down beside Hermione. The students had been set to doing group work and Ron was glad he was paired with Hermione.

Harry, looking a little glum, was paired with Neville. Neville, in contrast, was his usual beamish self. Ron smiled grimly. Now in seventh year, Neville was no longer nervous and absent-minded. He seemed to have developed a quiet confidence in himself that shone through in his manner. He was bubbly, cheerful and even if he didn't know something he always gave it a try, a far cry from his former self. Ron grinned properly now, and tossed his head to one side. Poor guy, he thought to himself, girls still won't go out with him cos they think he's dumb. In fact, he was sure Neville even had trouble getting a girl to talk to him at all.

Hermione was flicking through her Charms book intently, frowning slightly. Ron contemplated her for a moment, listening to the rustling of the pages as she turned them. "I have a scenario for you." He waved his finger about absent-mindedly. Hermione turned to him, slightly annoyed. "Let's just say, theoretically speaking that is… Who do you like best: Malfoy or the Traitor Prince?"

Hermione laughed suddenly. "Neither."

"Come on, theoretically speaking?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and gazed at the ceiling. "B. Always had a thing for dark mysterious types." Ron's expression turned to one of a deeply troubled personality and he stared back at her disturbed. "Look," she explained, "I can't have a thing for Malfoy, he's blonde – blonde's are stupid. Not that I don't like the idea of bossing a guy around, but there comes a point, you know, and you think: I must've been really smashed to go home with this one. Yeah? The rough and tumble bit? What girl doesn't like rough and tumble? But if you really want complicated heart, fringe psychopath, you can't go past the Prof. I ask you, how more whacked can you get? Seriously? Our darling Prof is just tops for excitement. Lethal excitement. You could well die in the process!" Hermione could no longer hold a straight face. She burst into a fit of girlish giggling. Catching Ron's eye, she said: "Well you asked me. What else was I gonna say? Yeah, I've really got the hots for Malfoy; I'm just waiting for him to come back so I can run off into the sunset with him? You've got to be kidding! You are such a scream! You ask the dumbest questions sometimes, you know that?"

Ron looked away from her, over to Professor Flitwick, who was having a discussion with Parvati and Lavender. Hermione was buried in her book once more. Pansy thumped her head on the desk. Ron eyed her warily for a moment, sure she was crazy. She looked up and caught his eye. His heart almost stopped in his chest. He wanted to look away but he couldn't. "What did she say?" Although he couldn't hear her actual words, he was sure this was what she seemed to say. He shrugged. "Does she or doesn't she?" He frowned, and then it dawned on him.

"No way!" he mouthed back, "She said he's bloody ugly – erk."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Ugly? She would say that, wouldn't she? That is so wrong, on so many levels. He is completely adorable. He's so dreamy."

Ron snorted. Had someone just mentioned the word dreamy and Snape in the same sentence? He narrowed his eyes at her. "You're crazy."

"His eyes are so cute! And his cute hair…" She wrapped a finger around her own hair as if to demonstrate. She seemed to be lost on some strange tangent.

"Crazy woman!"

"Ron?!" He spun around and stared at Hermione. He shrugged to show she had his attention. "What are you doing?"

"I… talking to myself. What, is that like illegal now?"

Hermione frowned, shaking her head slowly. "You just confound me."

Ron nodded. "You too, doll - over and above. The feeling's entirely mutual."

"What?"

Ron smirked. "The white cliffs of Dover… blue birds, you know?"

She blinked, unsure whether he was already mad or going mad. "You're… There are no words."

Ron's brown eyes widened. "Wow! This must be, like, a record. I never left any girl speechless before." He smiled smugly to himself.

"Trust me, Ronald, speechless is one thing, dumbfounded is another."

Ron frowned, mock annoyed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Hermione took the bait. "Oh, never mind!" she said, exasperated.

Ron chuckled. "C'mon, Herm, you know I'm just playing with ya!" He nudged her in the arm. "So what's this group work thingy all about?"

"Why don't you ask the teacher?" she said huffily.

Ron rolled his eyes as though he thought the answer was terribly obvious. "Cos the Teach ain't half as know-it-all as you are," she turned to him, outraged – he held up his hands – "and definitely not as sweet. You are so sweet; in fact, you don't even need sprinkles on top. And forget the cherries – chuck 'em out the window."

Hermione frowned and crossed her arms. She pulled the book towards her. Begrudgingly she explained.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Book**

Ron stared up at the many shelves of books upon books, wandering gloomily through the library. _Potions… Potions… Potions…_ He swore loudly. A third year girl stared at him. He stared back. She hurried off. He hated Potions, and the very thought of spending his spare looking for a book… He shuddered. _A book!_

He came to the aisle where the potions books were kept and stopped. The books were all so large and old and… booky. He frowned, wondering how anyone could like Potions. Sure, you could do some pretty ace things with potions… A sudden realization came to him. Perhaps – if his first Potions teacher had been such a complete, he refrained from using the word he would have liked – perhaps if he hadn't been, then perhaps he – Ron – would have liked Potions. He grinned to himself, in a disgusted sort of way. _Like Potions? No way!_

His eyes landed on the very last shelf before the floor and he spotted a reasonably-sized book, bound in brown leather. He knelt down, and with a certain degree of difficulty, wrenched it free of the shelf; landing spectacularly on his back, staring up at the dusty ceiling. The book flew from his hands and landed a short way away. Ron scrambled to his feet and snatched the book up off the floor again, an annoyed scowl across his freckled face, and as he did so, a smaller book, this time bound in maroon, fell to the floor at his feet. Ron frowned. He placed the larger book down on the bench, still looking at the smaller book lying on the floor. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. His heart did a small leap. Inscribed on the back in thin silver lettering, were the words: Property of the half-blood Prince. He wanted to throw it down and jump up on down on it, or burn it, but he couldn't bring himself to. Curiosity got the better of him. He cursed himself for his foolishness and opened to the first page, his hand shaking horribly. The writing was different somehow, to how he had imagined it, not as spindly and cramped as he knew it should be, it was a child's hand, the characters shaky and unsteady in parts and smudged in others. Ron pushed his awkwardness away, not wanting to imagine this particular person as a child. He found himself becoming increasingly annoyed, however, at the writer, for they had not included dates. Taking up on a stool quite absent-mindedly, he squinted to make out the untidy scrawl.

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**Today is my first day at Hogwarts, and it is very big. Bigger than I had imagined it from what Eileen had told me about it. At the present moment I am sitting in my dormitory by the window. It's dark outside so I can't see much. I have decided to write in this book because Eileen would want me to. She gave it to me last Christmas, but I didn't much like it, so I threw in the closet. I only found it when I was packing my things for school. Feel a bit homesick actually… hmmm… I guess I shouldn't think about it too much. I miss Eileen, but I don't miss Tobias – not by a long shot. I suppose I should write something about my first day, so here goes…**

**The train ride was a horror. I got stuck in a compartment with a boy called Remus, who was really into books, and couldn't stop talking about what he thought magic school was going to be like – non-stop for two hours. Meanwhile, I was feeling quite sick, and was sure I would be sick over the boy if I told him to shut up. At some point I stopped caring that the boy had been ranting on about the same thing for hours and just listened to the rain on the windows. It wasn't that I disliked the boy, and I wasn't that I wasn't interested in Hogwarts, either. It was just that I suddenly realised how I had always seemed a bit distant from other children, even ones my own age, and I suddenly thought, what if I talk to the boy and he doesn't like me? I know it's silly of me, but that's just what I thought. I didn't want to upset him. Didn't want him to look at me the way Tobias always did. As I said, stupid, irrational… But… In actual fact, the boy seemed quite nice, even offered me some chocolate, which I declined, as politely as I knew how. The boy just frowned at me, probably thinking I was mad, because I know I was.**

**When we got to the castle, the first thing that happened was the Sorting. There were actually a lot of students in first year, and I wondered if we would all be in the same class. Remus turned to me and smiled. "Isn't it wonderful?!"**

**I sniffed and nodded. It was a very pretty place. Old and mysterious, but pretty all the same. Remus, unfortunately, fell over on the stairs and hurt his ankle, so I had to stop and help him up. He yowled loudly when I helped pull him to his feet and sat back down. I felt sorry for him. It was probably broken or twisted, and I knew it must hurt terribly. The group had gathered at the top of the stairs by a tall lady with a pointy hat. The lady would be upset if we did not join the group soon. She wanted to say something, I could see that, she was busy checking off the students names on a list, but then she would say something. I looked back to Remus. "It's okay," I told him, "It's not as bad as you think. It just stings a bit, but it's not broken."**

**He shook his head. "It doesn't sting, it kills. It's broken, I know it."**

**I smiled and shook my head. My hair got in my eyes, so I brushed it away. "Let me see. If it's broken, then I'll tell the lady up there, and she can help you."**

**Slowly he took his hand away from his ankle. I reached down. It was busted. I could feel it even before I touched it and he nearly jumped through the ceiling. "It's broken, I told you. It really hurts."**

**I frowned. "It isn't, it just needs a bit of rest." He wasn't buying it.**

**Just this once couldn't hurt. Just this once and we wouldn't have to upset the tall lady with the sharp black hair. I reached down and placed a hand above his ankle. He looked away, ready for the inevitable pain that would come. I shut my eyes, and then it was done. A great warmth welled up inside me, a great happiness and contentment. It scared me. I knew no one should ever be so happy. It was a strange kind of happiness, a strange kind of knowledge that I did not know.**

**Remus turned back to me. "There, you see, it wasn't really broken after all, it just hurt a lot, just needed a bit of rest." I helped him to his feet unsteadily. He winced instinctively, but no pain came. He smiled suddenly, and we dashed up the stairs just in time to get checked off by the tall lady. She frowned and then started her speech.**

**The Sorting seemed a bit strange to me. We had to sit on this funny little stool and there was this hat that talked, a bit like the tall lady's, but hers didn't talk.**

**I started to think how mad Eileen would be with me if she knew what I had done. She would kill me. Well, not literally, but she always had that look to the same effect. It made me WANT to die. Remus was talking to a boy beside me. He started to laugh. I turned and watched the Sorting.**

**A boy called Sirius was sorted next. He kept on rattling his legs, and it kind of annoyed me. I guess it reminded me of Eileen, her nervous smile. She was my mother, yes, but she had been a person first. The boy was put in Gryffindor House. Next was a girl with red hair. She was put in Gryffindor too. Then it was my turn. I was thinking how much I wouldn't want to be in Gryffindor, when the girl nearly smacked into me on her way back to the tables. I stared. Really stared! Dumbly!**

**My mind wondered off, recalled a poem I had heard once: **

"**I went out to the hazel wood,**

**Because a fire was in my head,**

**And cut and peeled a hazel wand,**

**And hooked a berry to a thread;**

**And when white moths were on the wing,**

**And moth-like stars were flickering out,**

**I dropped the berry in the stream**

**And caught a little silver trout.**

**When I had laid it on the floor**

**I went to blow the fire aflame,**

**But something rustled on the floor,**

**And someone called me by my name:**

**It had become a glimmering girl**

**With apple blossom in her hair**

**Who called me by my name and ran**

**And faded through the brightening air…"**

**This thought trailed off. I held out my hand and helped her to her feet, too stunned to say anything. Lily! My little tiny Lily!**

**She laughed nervously – no giggled – but was really polite, a proper little lady, and I remember thinking, if I had a sister… Okay, that was a lame thought. But one thing was for sure. She was Lily. I wanted to say 'hi' or something, but the way that tall lady with the pointy hat was looking at me – uh-ah. Not a good idea. So, just when I'm thinking, maybe school's not gonna be so bad after all – I get stuck in Slytherin. Lily is talking to another girl. She looks over at me for a second, and I can see it in her eyes. Muggle-born or no muggle-born, she's heard the stories. It's not fear or hate, but uncertainty. And I realize, as you do, that we can't just be friends again. She's a good girl. She has a good future, or a good chance at one. I couldn't ruin that for her. I know I can be selfish at times, but she was a good friend to me once, and I know I owe it to her to try and be one back. So this is what I've resolved. If she hates me for it – that's the sacrifice I must make. It's for her own good. And I know I'll probably hate me for it too, so it's written here in this diary and cannot be undone. Rule number one.**

**The one word that comes to mind: doom. Damn, I'm a tragic. Second word: crazy. Third word: Hooray for Potions classes!**

**I went and sat at the Slytherin table. I tried to smile, but couldn't quite manage. I know it's silly of me, we were only four at the time, and she probably doesn't even remember me… That's it! I convinced myself that she didn't remember me. It was better that way, best not to bring up the past. I remember how she had cried when I told her my mummy and daddy wanted to move and that I had to go with them cos I wasn't old enough to drive a car yet, so I couldn't go to work, cos you needed a car to get there. She had cried and cried and tried to stop me going. But I had to go. I had to go with mummy. So I thought of something nice to tell her. I took my silver chain with the heart on it, the one mummy had given me when I was born, and put it in her hand. She looked up at me, still crying. "Keep this for me. Keep my heart for me. Cos where I'm going, it's not home. And my heart belongs where my home is. Will you keep it for me? Make sure it doesn't get cold or lost like daddy's? Make sure I can always find the way back home if I look inside my heart?"**

**She nodded, and sniffed loudly. "I will Teddy, I promise."**

**My mother called from another room. "Severus, we've got to go now. Have you just about finished saying bye now? Daddy's getting worried, doesn't want to be late."**

"**COMING MUMMY." I turned back to Lily, startled by a smashing sound. She had knocked a vase of her dresser. She leant down and picked up a piece of porcelain up carefully.**

"**Do you promise back?"**

**I stared at her. "Yes."**

**And then the porcelain cut into her palm. It started to bleed. I frowned and tried to take the shard from her. She pulled away, determined. "Do you promise?!" She held out the shard.**

**I took it from her slowly. I didn't look down at my hand, stared into her green eyes, overflown with tears. I dragged the sharp porcelain across my palm. It stung something awful. "I promise!" I dropped the shard. She took my hand. We shook on it. Then I had to leave. Daddy was honking on the horn outside. I ran down the stairs, but Lily did not follow. She just stood and stared as I disappeared. I hoped she didn't start crying again. I hoped her mummy would fix her hand.**

**Someone prodded me in the arm. I looked around. It was a blonde boy with grey eyes. "I'm Lucius."**

**I didn't smile. "Severus."**

**He laughed. "Funny name."**

"**I know."**

**He shrugged.**

oOo

Ron shut the diary and looked up. The librarian came rushing over. "It's lunchtime, dear, aren't you hungry."

Ron frowned, her concerned expression shocking him. "I, um… yeah. I… I'll go now." She nodded, and then smiled. Ron quickly snatched up the brown-bound Potions book. "Can I borrow this before I go?"

"Of course you can."

Ron had the distinct impression she was a little shocked to see him reading so intently. But when he remembered what he had been reading, his heart sank. He was sure the Lily mentioned was Harry's mum. He smiled kindly and took his leave for lunch.

oOo

The Great Hall was packed when he entered the room. Hermione turned in her seat and frowned. "Where were you?" she demanded, slightly cross. Harry looked across at him also.

"In the library." Ron could have kicked himself, they would never believe that, not in a million years, even if it was true. He didn't want to meet Harry's eyes, so turned his attention back to Hermione.

"Ronald, you know I'm not that dumb."

"I was reading. I swear."

"Reading what?"

He held up the Potions book. "Potions."

Hermione had been taking a sip of her pumpkin juice and spat it all over Harry. She frowned, embarrassed. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. It's just, I thought I heard Ron say he was reading a Potions book in the library." She waved her wand and his cloak was cleaned.

Harry nodded. "I heard it too."

"I… You what? He… he did say that, did he?" She turned wildly back to Ron.

Ron nodded and took the empty seat beside her. "Why are you asking Harry? Don't you believe me when I tell you something?"

She blushed. "Ron, don't be silly! It's not that, it's just… Reading?"

"Yes! I was reading! Okay. A book. About Potions. Is that alright with you, mother?"

Hermione frowned. "I… Fine, you were reading, no big deal, I don't think that's strange."

"GOOD!"

"Good!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Charms Class**

Ron had Charms in the afternoon. He sat down next to Harry, wanting to avoid Hermione. Harry grinned.

Ron rolled his eyes, then he looked at Harry. "You know your mum?" Harry's smile faded. He nodded. "She had red hair right?"

"Yeah. I told you this already, ages ago…"

"I know, I know, just checking."

"Why?"

Ron coughed. "No reason. Somehow I just got it into my head that she had black hair, you know, like you."

Harry shook his head. "Red."

Ron nodded. "Pretty silly of me, huh?"

Harry stared at his friend. "Not really. Sometimes we just get things mixed up. Is it good?"

Ron blinked. "What?"

Harry nodded his head towards the desk. "The book you were reading? The Potions one?"

"Oh, that! Um, yeah, pretty good. All these weird techno words, but otherwise, good. Hermione stuff."

Harry nodded and looked up at the board. "Great! Notes!"

Ron smirked and shook his head. "I hate notes."

Professor Flitwick was pacing between the desks, looking a bit bored. Everyone started taking down noted from the board. The school nurse came to the door so he hurried over to talk to her. Ron stared over to Hermione, who was sitting with Neville. His eyes wandered past the pair and landed on Pansy Parkinson. She was staring straight ahead and Ron just knew she wasn't copying down the notes. He smirked. She was so going to fail, never taking notice in class. She suddenly gripped the desk as if she feared she might fall. Ron frowned. She was weird. How could she not be, she was a Slytherin? She tossed her head back and stared at the ceiling. Ron looked up at the ceiling too. There was nothing there. Then she started to make funny noises, her fingers clawing the desk frantically. Half the class had already stopped copying down notes from the board when Professor Flitwick noticed and ran over to see what was going on, followed closely by Madame Pomphrey. Professor Flitwick was talking to her but she wasn't hearing. He reached out a hand and touched her arm. Ron noticed Hermione had a hand over her mouth as if trying not to laugh; quite a fair few of the other girls did.

"Miss Parkinson!" Madame Pomphrey said loudly. "Are you with us?"

Pansy seemed to awake from her strange fit, her hands let go of the desk and her chair toppled over backwards with her in it. She pulled herself up off the floor, brushed herself down, and nodded, blushing terribly. "I'm okay. Just tuned out for a moment."

Hermione snorted. "Tuned out! Sure you did!"

Pansy did not look at her. Her hands were shaking as she tried to pull her chair back up to standing position. "I'm fine now," she said to the two adults watching her keenly. "I really am."

Madame Pomphrey sighed and walked off. Professor Flitwick looked down at her textbook and pointed to the board. "You better start copying down those notes."

"Yes, sir!" She sat down to start her notes, but the way her hands were shaking it was almost impossible. The rest of the class resumed their note-taking also.

Ron stared across at Harry. "That was odd."

"Yeah…"

oOo

_The room was dark. Lily muttered softly and her wand lit. A soft glow spread through the nursery warmly. She gazed down at the infant in her arms lovingly. He was asleep of course, and that was why she had brought him up here, to get away from the ruckus of the Christmas party going on downstairs. She gently lay him down in his cot and covered him with his soft pastel-coloured baby blankets._

"_Lily?" Heavy footsteps bounded up the staircase and out into the hall. She turned slowly, a finger across her dark lips. Peter's eyes fell on her face and then to the sleeping baby. He frowned apologetically, about to say something. Lily, knowing no doubt Sirius would have fed him half-a-dozen scotches trying to get him to talk to someone other than Dolly the broom, crossed the room swiftly and placed a hand over his mouth. He had a teensy habit of speaking more loudly than he usually would when he was drunk, like he thought his voice would run away without him and start saying all kinds of things if he didn't make his intentions clear. Peter stumbled out into the hall and came up against the wall opposite, confused. Lily frowned and then smiled reassuringly._

"_What is it? Why did you come running up here like some little boy on a mission?"_

_He blinked, avoiding looking her in the eye. "Wanted to talk about s-" She had a hand over his mouth again and was trying not to giggle. Peter lowered his voice and continued. "Something."_

_Lily nodded softly, brushing the long hair from her face. Peter froze and stared at her alarmed. Harry was mumbling incoherently in his sleep, baby words or proper words neither could tell. They dashed silently into the room and gazed down at the sleeping infant. Lily re-arranged the blankets across his chest. "Shh," she cooed, "Mummy's here now." She began to hum. "Hush-a-by, baby, don't you cry. Mama's gonna bake you a great big apple pie. Hush-a-by, baby, don't you cry. Mama's gonna build you a great big fire." Peter sat down on the bed heavily. Lily leant across and kissed her sleeping baby on the head. She straightened up and turned to the short man. "Tell me about this 'something'?"_

_Peter shook his head. "Don't worry. It's silly of me to bring it up."_

_Lily gazed at him, sadness staring back from her green eyes and shook her own head. "No. No, it's not silly to want to want to talk about things that trouble us." She sat down beside him lightly and took up his hand and patted it. "If there's anything you want to talk to me about – ever – I'm here. I'll listen. You just have to tell me."_

_Peter nodded glumly. "It's about work."_

_Lily continued patting his hand. "Go on."_

_He tore away from her gaze and stared at the bed head instead. "No. I can't tell you. I'm not supposed to tell anyone." Lily looked hurt. "Not that… Not that I don't…" Peter fell short._

"_Please tell me. I want to help."_

_Peter continued staring intently at the bed head. "I know that. But I can't. I swore I would never tell. I'm sorry to have bothered you," he tried to make his voice sound casual but failed. Lily shook her head, gazing at him in understanding. "I killed someone!" he blurted out. Lily gasped and stopped patting his hand. He had to get away. He couldn't stand to look into __those__ eyes. He ran for the door. Lily took his arm and stopped him. She tried to catch his eye. "Lily, please, I really don't want to talk ab-" He was cut off. Lily was kissing him. There was pain inside her, and he would have liked nothing more than to comfort her and be comforted back, but it was a childish wont and held not truth in the scheme of reality. He pushed her away. "Lily! This isn't right."_

"_Isn't this what you want?"_

_Peter shut his eyes. He wished it wouldn't come to this. He never wanted to hurt her, but it was looking increasingly likely that there would be no other way to get out of this corner. "No… Yes. But, but not with you."_

_Lily could sense his stoic conviction was just a pretense to hide his fear. "Why not?"_

"_God damn it, Lily! You're my friend. You're married. You've got a baby." He really wanted to say that she deserved better, someone who would always love her, always stick by her, always understand that she was only human, but couldn't bring himself too. Instead he just stared back at her exasperated. It worked for Remus._

"_I won't tell if you don't."_

_Peter fought hard not to show his shock and break out in a fit of coughing because he had nearly choked on his own breath. He tried to be sympathetic and rolled his eyes as though Lily had simply said it as a joke. "Lily!"_

_Lily looked at her shoes. Peter pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry. I've been so very stupid."_

"_No. No." Peter shook his head, stroking her hair. "We all get a little confused sometimes." He led her back to the bed. She lay down tiredly. He patted her head. "Why don't you get some rest? You'll feel better in the morning, I promise."_

_She smiled sadly and Peter wanted so badly to hold her and tell her he could keep his promise. "We're good?" she murmured uncertainly, tiredly._

_He smiled back at her. "We're good," he told her with a falsely confident note in his voice. Lily shut her eyes. "We're good," he repeated quietly, watching as her breathing calmed. Peter waited for her to fall asleep before joining his friends downstairs._

_oOo_

"_Where you been, Petey?"_

"_Wouldn't you love to know?"_

_Sirius chuckled, knowing it was best not to enquire when his friend was in one of those moods. Remus trottled over, jabbering about something or other incoherently. Peter laughed and patted Remus's shoulder. "It's alright, Remus."_

_Sirius nodded, knowing his friend was going to be okay in a little while. "Yup, he's smashed," he confirmed in a comically bright voice. He looked across at Peter, saw how tired he looked, saw how the world had aged him, hardened him. He had been so different in school, so liable say any damn thing that came into his head, so easy to corrupt because of all that damn wanting to please, wanting to be loved, cared for. Sirius smirked. __He's a tough little bugger, he'll get through.__ Sirius dragged Peter off to where James was talking to the Longbottoms._

_oOo_

_Lily came back down later, feeling tired, but unsettled enough not to be able to sleep. Peter was discussing Percy Shelley with the blender. James came and hugged his wife; told her some joke. She laughed. He wandered off again. "Peter?" Peter looked up._

"_Mrs. Potter."_

_She rolled her eyes, hated the way he addressed her as though she were a school teacher. "The blender doesn't understand free love, Peter. It's an inanimate object."_

_Peter blinked the way he often did when he didn't understand things, the way a child would. "In… an… Say what?" He laughed._

"_It's not alive."_

_Peter looked back to the blender seriously as though he needed confirmation of this fact from the blender itself. "Sure she is. Look, see, she just winked at me."_

"_No it didn't."_

"_I'm telling you she did." He got that stubborn child tone in his voice. "There, see, she did it again."_

_Lily laughed; gave up on trying to convince him otherwise. "Okay, fine, it did!"_

"_Ah, see! I was right wasn't I?"_

_She nodded. "You were right."_

_He smiled triumphantly and nearly fell over his own feet. "I was right," he mumbled to himself._

"_Yes you were." Lily smiled kindly._

"_Why… why… Why did you say 'Peter'?"_

_Lily tossed her head; brushed the hair from her face. "You're Peter, aren't you? I'm pretty sure you are, but if I'm mistaken, feel free to correct me – please do."_

_His eyes were overlarge. She could see his mind working slowly. "Peter?" He frowned. "Oh yeah, that's me." He nodded in confirmation._

_Lily's voice became more serious, less warm. "I was wondering if you hadn't changed your mind?"_

"_Changed my mind?" Peter really had to struggle now to recall what she was on about._

"_About talking? Cos I really could do with someone to talk to as well."_

_He swayed a bit. "Oh no! No, no, no, no, no!" He shook his head violently. Subsequently losing his balance and falling forward. Lily stepped in and caught him._

"_You're making yourself dizzy." She sounded like a mother and smiled to herself._

"_I like being dizzy."_

_Lily laughed. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"_

"_No idea." He started laughing._

_Sirius wandered over, eyeing the pair, disturbed. "Need any help?"_

"_No, I'm all good. What exactly did you give him?"_

_Sirius rocked back and forth on his shoes innocently. "Just punch."_

_Lily's eyes darted around the room. She wasn't buying into that voice, sweet innocence didn't work on her that easily, not with Sirius at any rate. "Punch that was conveniently spiked?" She raised her eyebrows._

"_That's right, Mrs. P." He grinned and swept off to find James._

_Lily rolled her eyes. She turned her attention back to Peter. "Let's get you upstairs, huh? Away from all this racket." She was back to her mother mode. Peter laughed. Lily didn't ask what about. She led him upstairs, back to the nursery. They sat down on the bed and watched the sleeping infant. Peter rested his head on her shoulder. She knew he was drunk enough to say anything and that she shouldn't really ask, but she also knew it was now or never, he had grown cold over the years, was no longer foolish enough Lily figured. She would have no chance of getting anything out of him when he was sober. Peter was singing some song badly out of key, but the melody was right. "…It's over know, you've whole the final game. It's not easy loving you. It's not easy loving you. For that's all I want to do, if you would love me too…"_

_Lily stole herself. She had to be brave, couldn't let her conscience get to her now. "Has James said anything odd about me lately?"_

_Peter smirked. "James tends to refrain from discussing t' much with me."_

_Lily frowned and pulled away from him so she could regard his expression, seeking the truth in his dark eyes. "Don't be ridicul-"_

"_I's true. I's either Sirius or Remus, but never me." His voice was miserable. He laughed now. "I think they've grown out of hanging around with an idiot just to make themselves look clever!"_

"_You're not an idiot," Lily hissed angrily. "Incidentally, sarcasm doesn't suit you."_

_Peter ignored her advice, knowing he was right, knowing how much it hurt inside but not being able to do anything but laugh because he couldn't cry. "Take a good look, Lily. Tell me I'm not an idiot. Tell me you're not the only one who could love me, cos you could love anyone."_

_Lily took him by the shoulders and shook, angry with him now, angry at the truth in his words. "You're talking bullshit, you know that?!"_

"_Am I?" His eyes were dark with despair, his voice miserably bright._

_Lily slapped him. "Don't make you hate me!"_

_Peter did not look shocked. He laughed. "Hah!" She couldn't hate him, didn't know the meaning of the word. He was suddenly angry at himself for upsetting her. "You want me to tell me about the person I killed? You win! I'll tell you." He sounded bitter. "She was 23. Long brown hair – she always wore it in two bunches with these silly little scrunchies with flowers on them – brown eyes, the cutest little nose you've ever seen. She worked for the Ministry. Imogen Nathaniel." Lily wanted to tell him to shut up, to say she didn't want to hear. He was only doing this to punish himself. Any other person would have told him to shut it, told him that they didn't wanna hear another guilt trip. Lily knew she would probably have to whack him across the face a few times to stop him, because when he got started, it all came out like water down a drain pipe like he never wanted to stop. She wasn't prepared to do that, so she let him continue, hating herself that she couldn't be a better friend. Funny, James would always say she was good to talk to. Her mother had always told her talking was good for the spirit, and it was for most people, but for Peter it became some sort of cruel punishment. "Her job was to infiltrate the Dark Lord's forces, make like she was one of them. She was very good at her job, very dedicated, really believed that she could help people. And she did, she did. Granted, job well done. Then one day, I dunno, she couldn't take it anymore, the horror of it all. The world was just a such big mess, and the enormity of it all started to sink in. What could she do? One person? She started to slip up, started to become disillusioned. We could all see it was only a matter of time before she mucked up, spilt her poor heart out. Before they noticed and made her tell. So the Ministry sent a team of Aurors to intercept her, extract her, but something didn't work out. It was getting too risky. I didn't know it yet, but they scraped the rescue plan after that. She was going to jeopardize the whole project, so many people, so many hours, so much money. They had to find her and terminate her, like she was some thing and not a human being at all," Peter hic-cupped, started to laugh shakily, tears welling up in his eyes. Lily tried to catch his eye, but he looked away ashamedly. "We worked in the same office, same department. She was going to have a baby. She was so excited. Couldn't stop talking about it. The last time I saw her in that office I had been away on a job for a while, and she was so different, not… not happy like she used to be. All certainty had gone from her eyes, now it was just determination. She had always been so sure. She was doing the right thing! She would get there in the end. But now – no. She just dragged herself down there knowing that she had to, it was her job, it was the only way she could cling to that dream, that dream that was now gone, yet she tried to pretend that nothing had changed." Tears started to spill down his face now and his voice shook horribly. "Seventeen days later they sent a team in to retrieve her, whatever the cost. Stupidly, I thought we were going to bring her home. Alistair and I found her. In some room, huddled in some corner like some animal. I don't think they had discovered her yet, she just couldn't take it any longer, had had enough. The others came later, as I was telling her it was all over and we were going to get her home. Alistair grabbed my arm. Told me he wanted to talk to me for a moment. Imogen didn't look so well and was shivering from head to toe so I gave her my cloak before I let Alistair drag me away. She hadn't told me much and I hadn't wanted her to think this was some sort of inquisition, so I just let her cry on my shoulder. She didn't care anymore who saw that she was crying, but it was very hard to get away from her, very hard to convince her I wouldn't leave her, that I would come back to take her home. Promised it would be all right. I lied to her and believed it. Lied to her when she needed to hear the truth. Talked her into her death. Then they cursed her. Right there in front of me! DEAD! All done, all gone, all sold… Alistair was shouting at me, but all I could see were those dead eyes. She was perfect in every way, but she was dead, and I just couldn't believe it. Kept on shaking her and telling her to stop playing games. Told her it wasn't funny anymore. I was angry at her for being dead. And then we left her there," he laughed, "to rot! They had to rough her up a bit first, make it seem like she wasn't one of us at all, but one of them." His hands were shaking uncontrollably and he kept trying to shut his hands but they just wouldn't. "Such a small thing. Such a little life. Lost in the gathering dusk…" He suddenly laughed as though he was some crazy person, deranged. He laughed and laughed and couldn't stop, couldn't breath, but couldn't stop either._

_Lily stared back at her friend, horror in her eyes, the horror in her soul burning through those sweet green orbs horribly. "No," she told him flatly, "this is not happening. I'm not watching this. You're going to get over this!"_

"_Get over it?!" He laughed again and it scared her. She hated that he couldn't take this matter seriously. It was a very serious matter. Why couldn't he see that? "She's dead! She's never coming back. How can I 'get over' killing another human being?"_

_Desperation turned to savage anger and resentment. She had been strong. She had forced herself to, even when in her heart all she wanted to do was to run away, but her head told her "no", told her how to be strong, taught her to lie to herself even though she knew that was all it was. And one day, she knew she would forget that they were lies, one day they would become reality and she could be happy again, she just had to be strong. He had no business acting like that. Why did he have to bring all of that up? "It wasn't your fault! You didn't kill her!"_

"_I DIDN'T STOP THEM!"_

_Lily screamed back at him, losing all self control now, but trying desperately to pull herself back, the lies continued, on and on, over and over. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP."_

_Peter looked away from her like some insubordinate child. He started to sob, mumbling all manner of torturous things he could inflict upon himself. Lily could see it so clearly. He just didn't have it in him to lie to himself like that, some small part of him was still that innocent little boy. He might have known all of these things yet all of this refused to sink in, couldn't change what he was inside, and if it killed him to keep that he would sacrifice his life. Lily heard something about quitting; a snatch of verse from a prayer she didn't know, in a language she didn't know._

_She wouldn't let him go that way. She had to take charge. She had learnt that just staying alive took precedence over the heart, and if one was lucky the heart may recover one day. Survival was imperative, humanity was a luxury. Lily pulled the tank top over her head; started to unbutton her skirt. She would have her way. He __would__ get over it. He had to get over it. She wouldn't have him quitting on her now. She seized him by the front of his clothes and threw him onto the bed viscously, planting herself on top of him. If there was one thing she had learnt, it was how to twist a man into doing anything, absolutely anything. "I want you!" she growled._

oOo

Pansy screamed. She had done it again, fallen asleep in class. Her fingers hurt so much, she let go of the desk and fell back on to the floor with a loud thump. The class was staring at her amusedly. She was in big trouble and they knew it, their eager faces told her that. She stood up roughly and replaced the chair on its legs. Her eyes darted around the room fleetingly. She caught Harry's eye, green like apples. Her heart stopped in her chest. She willed herself to tear her gaze away, she had no longing to gaze into those eyes. Madame Pomphrey and Professor Flitwick were talking to her. Their voices were so far away. "I'm okay," she mumbled, "Just tuned out for a moment." Laughter drifted to her ears, echoed in her head like a broken record. She tried not to listen. "I'm fine now. I really am." She wished they'd all just stop staring at her. It was so hard to keep her voice steady, so hard not to scream or cry. Professor Flitwick mentioned something about notes. "Yes, sir." She wanted to die, to just disappear. But that wasn't happening, no matter how hard she wished. Her body did one thing, her mind another, she couldn't get them to work together. She stared down at her quill as if it was the most important thing in the world. _PICK. IT. UP. DO. IT. NOW!_ Her hand reached out shakily, she seized the quill, held onto it for dear life. _The board. Notes. Read the notes and copy them down_. She looked up at the board. Her head spun, she wanted to be sick, but instead took a deep breath. _ "The world only spins so fast. You slow down, you miss out. And that is something you do not want to do."_


	7. Chapter 7

**Lilac Wine**

Ron lay in his bed, staring up into the darkness, so many thoughts rushing through his head. He couldn't think anymore. He forced himself to sit up. He worried about his homework, he worried about his grades, he worried about his family – if they were alright, if they were happy and well – he worried about Hermione, he worried about Harry – his best friend… He felt his head to see if he was running a fever. He wasn't. He had to do something to take his mind off that look Harry had given him in Charms class. "That was odd."

"Yeah…" And that look. What did that look mean? Was that… confusion?

Harry was changing, slipping away. Ron wanted to help him but he didn't know how. He hated to see Harry that way. He was still so young, still had so much to look forward, there was no use in acting the way he did, only… the things he had seen, the things he had gone through…

Ron pulled out the drawer on his bedside cabinet, rubbing his hands across his face in frustration, he pulled out the first book he could find. _Stupid git_, he thought to himself, _why do you worry so much? You're turning more and more like her everyday, more and more like mum. Argh. It's not normal, you know that right?_ He looked down at the book. He would force himself to read it if he had to, it was better than all this bloody worrying. "Oh." He frowned. It was the tiny maroon book he had found in the library that day. And suddenly he was taken by a strange curiosity. The book had mentioned a Lily. Could she really be Harry's Lily?_ Stop one moment! Just what do you think Harry's mum would be doing in this stupid book? I can't believe you even considered such a thing! It's… it's wrong. Wrong!_ But he had to know, had to be sure. He flicked through the pages, his hands shaking horribly, until he saw a page he did not recognize and stopped.

oOo

**So here I am: sitting against this stupid stone wall, my heart beating ninety-to-nothing, my head against the harsh rock; staring up at the Heavens like some rabbit caught in the headlights. James and Sirius are after me again, Remus half-heartedly trying to talk them out of it, out of puff, red like a raspberry. Peter's tagging along as usual.**

**I try to calm my breathing. Try not to cough. That would be a dead give-away. Too easy. I know they'll get me in the end – they always do – but I wasn't about to make it easy for them. "Say, guys? Lookin' for someone? Me, p'r'aps? Well, I'm over here." Yeah right! Hell, no! I took a sip of the alcohol I had nicked from somewhere – oh, yeah, that's right: the hospital wing – and coughed. God, that stuff was strong! Maybe Pomphrey used it to spike Dumbledore's tea so she could have her… Uh-hum, cut that line off thought off before it gets out of hand.**

**Anyhow, I was discovered, I had to run again. I don't even remember how we got to be like this. How we got to hate each other so much. I wasn't even sure that it was hate, but it was certainly something with a name that spelled trouble. But it hardly mattered anymore, they nearly had me, I had to pick up my pace. One would have thought I'd be used to this by now. Ttt! I'm rolling my eyes right now.**

**Then I tripped over and fell, heard a funny sort of cracking noise, felt the pain as if it wasn't my own. And smiled, resigned to my fate. I started to laugh, then I got onto singing some funny song called "Dark Eyes". I was totally smashed, so I decided to finish off the surgical alcohol before they got to me and cursed the Hell out of me. Better be merry and cursed than miserable and cursed.**

oOo

Ron snorted loudly. _This kid was just crazy, admittable!_ He looked around suddenly, but none of the others had appeared to have woken. He turned back to the book, sure he had suddenly gone mad also.

oOo

**So they found me, as I knew they would, and hexed me, as I knew they would. Old news. "Guys! Guys! Stop! This isn't fair!" James and Sirius turned to Remus, irritated.**

"**What's not fair? Remus, what's with you and spoiling everyone's fun?"**

**Remus looked like he wanted to thump Sirius, but just for a moment.**

"**Yeah, Rem, tell us?" I piped up.**

**Remus stared back at me, miffed, his hands in his mousy brown hair. He frowned as though he thought me a lost cause, and didn't much like the angry bubbles erupting all over my skin either. "It's just harmless fun. A bit of interaction with their peers. Since when was that ever against the law?"**

**Remus blew his fringe up and turned to his two friends, his arms out wide. "He's smashed."**

**Sirius nodded, failing to see the point. "That's for sure. He will be when we've finished with him!" James sniggered.**

**Remus rolled his eyes. "God damn it! GOD DAMN IT! He's drunk."**

**Sirius frowned, cogs working furiously. "Oh. OH!"**

**Peter stumbled into the clearing. "Did you get him? Did you get him?" His eyes scanned the clearing frantically and fell on me. He looked away, back to his friends. "Geez, guys, don't wait up for the midget."**

**Everyone ignored him. James laughed. "Ah, who gives a stuff! Let's hex 'im anyway! He's only a Slytherin after all."**

"**Yo-ho!" Sirius cheered.**

**Peter clutched at his stitch. "Stupid bugger, didn't spare us any of it, did 'e?"**

**I started to giggle hysterically. If I had been in a right mind I would have cursed meself, myself. "Ah, heck!" James said. "Remus, damn you! Why you always gotta go being so right? Can't curse the little bastard when he's like that. Making a right good fool of himself without us."**

**Peter nodded feverishly. "He's smashed alright! Wonder if we should just tell Pomphrey who's been nicking her surgical alcohol and watch that land him in detention?"**

**Sirius chuckled. "Come now, Peter, that's unsporting, and you know we're not unsporting."**

**It was Remus's turn to laugh. "Two of you and that dill brain against him! Oh no! That's never unsporting!"**

"**Course it ain't." James frowned at his defiant friend.**

**Peter looked from James to Sirius. "Dill brain," he repeated faintly, then turned to Remus. "I'm not a dill brain!"**

"**YES YOU ARE!"**

**Peter backed down. "Oh… I suppose I'd better get over it?"**

"**YES."**

**Sirius and James turned to Remus. "Cool it, man," Sirius began.**

**Remus was worked up now. "NO!" he snapped back.**

"**LOOK HERE," James raised his voice, "COOL IT! Let it slide."**

"**Geez, Remus, don't take it so hard," I began. "Someone get him a book for goodness sake! Remus, Remus, Remus!" I fell back and started to laugh again. Remus looked over at me, exasperated.**

**James nodded. "Listen to the guy for once, Remus. He might be smashed but he has a point, he just hasn't come to that part yet. Go on, Severus."**

"**Okay, forget the book. Get him a girl instead. Better than a book any day. They may set your heart on fire, lead you to the edge, leave you with a broken heart and a damaged pride, you may never be the same again, but God – love is worth all that and more. Even if it's just a made up love. Love can make the world go round, give you wings to soar above the clouds. Love can bring a civilization to its knees. Love is just one of those strange things…" I started to splutter. "God, I'm a tragic!" I pulled myself to my feet, no longer felt the pain, and steadied myself against a tree. "Look, guys, don't take this the wrong way, but – God, damn it – curse me already! I don't wanna wake up tomorrow knowing all the stupid stuff I've been rambling on about."**

"**Can't argue with that!" Sirius raised his wand before Remus could jump in and stop him. I smiled. What are good enemies for?**

**Much to my regret, I did remember after all, or I wouldn't be writing about it… Lucky for me, however, they didn't know that I did. And like Sirius said, they weren't unsporting. Not really. Well okay. Maybe just a little, and I may be just a tad bit smashed again, but darlin' – who really cares?**

**Dumbledore apparently. Says it's not good enough that I'm wasting my life all because my mum is dead. I laughed at that. Mum? I had almost forgotten that she was my mother. It was so stereotypical, such a cold description for another human being, made her seem like an object to be used and chucked away when she got old or boring. I guess all those rainy days I had wished away had come back to get me. Funny… That rainy day is here.**

**I loved her so much – love her so much – but now she is no longer here to love me back. Not on the physical plane, anyway. I tried so hard to believe that she had gone to a better place, just like I was told all those times Tobias dragged me off to that dreadfully cold place with the pretty glass windows, tried so hard to believe that she was happy somewhere, that she would always be watching over me… But I think, in my heart, I didn't really believe a word of it, knew it was all crap. A scam to make up for all the injustices, all the sacrifices one had to make in life. If you are without sin, they say, you will be saved, granted passage into Heaven. If you redeem, they say, you will be forgiven. But they forget to tell you one tiny thing… You are not allowed to live because to live is sin… to want, to need, to love… is sin. Is it wrong to want something for yourself? Is it wrong to dream? Is it wrong to crave pleasure, comfort, care… just enough to fill your heart on those cold and lonely nights? IS IT WRONG TO WANT TO LIVE? Salvation can never come from want, they say. Temptation is evil, they say.**

**Let me ask you this… They say that they will protect you from sin, from pain, from servitude… They say they will be there to guide you, to keep you on the right side of the tracks, tell you they are right for they are all-knowing and you are young and childish… Is this not servitude? Is this not blind? Where are the questions?**

**They say we are separate from animals because we think. But do we really? When we refuse to acknowledge we are physical beings with physical needs and feelings. We may think, we may have great minds, but we fail to see the truth of our existence. I have often heard the saying: we are only human. Yes, we are only physical beings.**

**Human kind is its own greatest enemy. Ho! I'm cheerful today. Ah, stuff Dumbledore! Now where'd I put that rum again?**

**I just know I'm gonna read this when I'm older – when I'm turned into a perfect little soldier – gonna think I was a crazy kid. Might as well live and love whilst I still know how, before they turn mw into some unthinking, unfeeling, uncaring thing, something that is no longer human. Well, till next time, got to go busy myself with a love potion for Pomphrey. She said she would forgive me if I made her one. Watch out Dumbledore! That girl's got it in for you.**

oOo

Ron smiled to himself. _Typical! Never a simple answer with this guy!_ He yawned tiredly and shut the book. The candle was blown out and Ron fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**It's The Season**

Pansy sat in the library. The book she was reading was boring her to death. She popped some Smarties into her mouth, looking up over her book for a moment. It was all white out in the grounds, and ever so cold. A few kids were playing outside, building a snowman, throwing snow balls. Pansy looked back to her book, her boredom far from cured. She hated Christmas. It was so cold and the radio played such stupid music.

She snapped the book shut and stood up, her long ruffled purple skirt fell below her knees, covered in bright yellow polka dots. Passing the librarian, she popped some more of the fluro-coloured chocolate beans into her mouth.

The hall was chill and froze the girl to the inside. She shook her head, at a loss with herself, why she hadn't put a jumper on and instead wore just her pink tee-shirt. And that silly hair band with the bow on top? She looked like Minnie Mouse. And then she remembered. Christmas.

She shoved a handful of Smarties into her mouth. Christmas was going to give her cavities. She smiled. Cavities tasted good. _You fat cow!_

"Oh my God!"

Pansy looked up. Hermione Granger couldn't laugh any louder if she tried. Pansy smiled politely. _Just think "festive season"._ She held out the bag of chocolates she had been eating. "Want some? But don't eat the black ones, I'm saving them for a funeral."

Hermione stopped laughing hysterically and hic-cupped, the similarity of the expression on her face to that of having been slapped extraordinary. Pansy swayed slightly, bored, and widened her eyes questioningly. Hermione looked as if she could remain with that stunned look forever. Pansy tossed her head and rolled her eyes. "God, this book is sooo boring! Death by Divination." She grinned. "It is very possible, you see, to die of chiromancy." She started to laugh, and then groaned, gazing down at the bag of Smarties. "Feel. Sick. Death by chocolate, more like."

Hermione seemed to have found her voice. "I… I don't like Smarties terribly much."

Pansy nodded. "Uum-uum, me neither." She reached down into the brightly-coloured bag and rustled around, emerging with a handful of chocolates. She popped them into her mouth.

Hermione shook her head.

Pansy shrugged. "They hypnotized me, I swear."

Hermione burst into raucous laughter at the genuine expression on Pansy's face. Pansy offered her some Smarties. She took a handful.

oOo

Hermione had just popped a pink Smartie in her mouth when there was a loud scream from up the hall. Both girls looked up from the Palmistry book they had been reading. Harry and Ron stood at the other end of the hall. Harry was frowning, apparently puzzled. Hermione smiled. "Oh, hi! Harry, Ron, Merry Christmas!"

"Merry – Damn it, it's so frigging freezing – Christmas yourself!" Harry smirked at his friend and shook his head. The taller boy frowned. "What?" Pansy giggled. He looked up wildly, alarmed.

Harry's smile vanished. "What are you talking to her for?"

Pansy stopped giggling abruptly. Hermione looked apologetic. Her eyes caught Pansy's for a moment and Pansy knew she didn't want to betray her friend. Pansy shrugged and strolled on up to Harry, a determined expression across her face. She tossed her long dark hair streaked with peppermint back once more. "Why do you think, Harry James Potter?"

Harry scowled. "Don't you dare call me Harry!"

Pansy rolled her eyes, slouching, her hands on her hips. "Do you have another name I don't know of? A favourite pet-name, perhaps? It would be ever so delightful to know what I should call you… boy."

Harry's green eyes grew cold. "You needn't address me at all! Your words are just a waste of breath. You do not know how to talk to human beings!"

Pansy's eyes widened in shock as she felt the sting of these words. She opened her mouth to reply, but words failed her. Her breath was ragged and her eyes glossy with tears. She turned on her heel, but stopped. She turned back to the glaring boy. "You can talk."

Smack! She reeled away from him, her cheek red and stinging where he had slapped her. She backed into the cold hard wall. Her hands reached out behind her. She was staring at Harry terrified. Her voice shook. "I cannot hate you, Lucius. Do not look upon me so coldly. Do what you will to me. It will make no difference to the way I feel inside. Love is not something you can take away so easily. You may think me a fool, and I may very well be, but I must be what I am. If this is what you are meant to be, so be it. I will not resent you for it. It is very possible, you see, to die of love." She smiled. Whether she had lied or not Harry could not tell because she believed. Her hands were shaking on the wall behind her as she searched for some escape. Her hands found thin air. She dashed around the corner and disappeared.

oOo

Hermione was staring at Harry as though she had never seen him before. "Harry?"

Harry scowled. "Leave me alone!" he retorted, but immediately regretted it. Hermione's lips trembled. Ron ran to comfort her. He reached a hand around her shoulder and rubbed her back.

"Look at me, Hermione. Harry didn't mean that. He's just upset." He turned to Harry. "Right, Harry?"

Harry looked up from his shoes. "Ron's right. I apologise." His voice was cold, surgical. He wouldn't cry, wouldn't show weakness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Red Hair Again**

Ron stood in the near deserted cobble stone street, whistling to himself to occupy his boredom and annoyance at the cold. Hermione had gone home for Christmas; her parents had come to pick her up as they had been out of town the day she was scheduled to return home on the Hogwarts Express. Harry was invited round to The Burrow. Harry and Ron had had some things to sort out with Professor McGonagall and had also stayed at Hogwarts an extra day. Ron could see that Harry was glad to be amongst friends, but the year gone had also turned him colder than Ron could ever have thought possible. Ron knew that it was just pretend, the way Harry made out that everything was alright inside, pretended that he was coping when he was slowly falling to pieces, like a jigsaw puzzle in the hands of a small drooling child, a new piece mangled and torn every so often.

"There!" Harry pointed.

"So it is! What do you know? You were right after all." Ron nodded smiling. Harry barged off ahead, full steam, with Ron at his heels. Ron wanted to smile, really wanted, but somehow could. And so too he wanted to believe that his friend had stormed off because he wanted to get out of the cold, but the truth was a vastly different story. The thought of that strange little book up in his room at The Burrow and his undue knowledge of Lily Potter's life before her baby boy came along did little to console him. He was torn between telling and forever keeping this secret, knowing what it would likely do to his friend if he told him. He couldn't bear to see that for his best friend.

Harry pushed the door to the Apothecary open roughly and they entered the store. The door slammed harshly in its frame. Ron cursed himself for being so pre-occupied to catch it before it shut. If one had assumed it to be warmer inside than out based on the lack of snow one would have been sorely mistaken, it wasn't. Ron shivered and strode up the narrow shelves to the counter. The room was dimly-lit. Placing his hand on the counter, he accidentally knocked a bottle to the floor behind the counter. The glass shattered in a manner that could have hardly failed to attract attention. Not a moment later a young woman dashed out from behind some shelving, and quickly passing Ron, took her place behind the counter, restoring the bottle to its former position with a flick of her wand. Ron grinned guiltily. Harry wandered over and stood behind him, not keen on conversation. "Is there something I can do for you, sir? Something you wanted?"

Ron nodded. "Ah, yes-" He blinked. The woman's voice had been eerily familiar. In the dim light however, he did not recognise her. He frowned. He was so close, but couldn't quite place his finger on the identity that so alluded him. Quickly resuming the conversation in hopes of learning the woman's name, he continued on somewhat awkwardly. "I'm," he nodded his head from side to side, "actually doing my last year at Hogwarts." He smiled. "Funny that. And, um, needed some things for Potions."

"Very well, sir." She tucked her thick red hair behind her ear as though nervous.

"Erm…" Ron turned to Harry. Harry was gazing at his shoes and didn't look up. Ron turned back to the young woman. "I, yeah. I need – let me see – erm… Pap-a-v-er son…"

"Somniferum?"

"Yeah." Ron grinned, feeling his face blush uncomfortably.

"Opium poppy. Pretty dangerous stuff. Seventh year Potions isn't flibbetty gibbet anymore. You'll need the unripe seed capsules. They contain morphine. Muggles use them in the manufacture of some of their medicines."

Ron nodded. "Uh-hah. Muggles wanna get high or something?"

"Pain-killers."

"Ah. Er, also Marr-u-bium vulgar-"

"Teachers can be a bloody pain like that. If they just told it to us in plain English we'd all be a lot better off. Back to… That'll be white horehound. It's, um, sometimes used for calming the heart. The property marrubiin normalises an irregular beat."

"Oh."

"You'll be using the leaves. Then there's juniper, Bella Donna – um, deadly nightshade, name's not too encouraging, I know – violet – very good for love potions – nettle, marigold, wormwood, the rest'll be standard Potions stuff. Yeah?"

"Yeah. I think so. Pretty much all those… that."

"Very good, sir. I won't be a moment." She flitted off amongst the dusty shadows of shelves filled with all manner of things.

Ron turned to his friend. "Wanna get some Butterbeer later?"

Harry didn't look up from his shoes; just shrugged. "Whatever."

"Cool!" Ron's falsely bright voice made his stomach churn, but he didn't feel like prolonging the awkwardness of his friend's response. He spent a while just watching the iridescent minute hand of his watch tick around and around.

"And that was all, sir? Sir?"

Ron looked up jerkily. "Oh, huh? Sorry, wasn't paying attention."

"That's quite alright, sir, happens to all of us at the best of times." She smiled and indicated the items he had ordered packed neatly into a box. "Will there be anything else, sir?"

"No, um, that's all I needed, thanks."

The young woman scanned a page of a clipboard clutched in her hands. "That all comes too… 15 galleons, 30 knuts and five sickles…" Ron bit his lip. The girl placed the clipboard back on the counter and looked up now. "We'll just make that a good even ten galleons, shall we? It is Christmas after all and everyone's a bit out of pocket this time of year." She smiled.

Ron now looked as though red paint had been chucked in his face. He placed his seven galleons, two knuts and three sickles down on the counter nervously, his hand shaking, and turned to Harry. "Har-" There was a tap on his shoulder. He turned back to the young woman. "I, um-"

"Your change, sir."

He blinked. The woman deposited one galleon, two knuts and three sickles into his palm. He opened his mouth.

"Good day, sir. And… Merry Christmas to you both."

"I… Merry Christmas." Ron took the box and made his way out of the shop into the blowing cold. He still had no idea who she was, but he figured that she must have been a Hufflepuff.

oOo

Ron and Harry met with Molly and Ginny at The Three Broomsticks. They had taken a table by the roaring fire. Ron hurried over and sat down, shivering. Harry sat down beside him. "It's bloody freezing outside!"

Molly gazed at her son, concerned. "Ronald, please? Cold as it may be, that's no reason for bad language."

Ron spluttered and looked up from his warm Butterbeer. "Mum! I thought you were actually concerned about me. I could have frozen solid out there, I'll have you know!"

Molly snorted at the boy's indignant face. "Ron, don't be silly, I am concerned for you – all of you – but that's no… Oh… It doesn't matter. I'm being silly." She sniffed. "So how'd it go? Did you manage to get everything? Did I give you enough money?"

"Yeah. But I dunno, with all that stuff, sounds pretty far out."

"Seventh year Potions isn't a game, Ronald. McGonagall's very good to let you do this. After all, you failed the subject last year."

Ron grumbled. They sat and talked the rest of the morning away.

oOo

At around eleven-thirty the door was opened, allowing a large gust of cold and snow in. It seemed to be snowing something awful outside. Ron looked up from the game of chess his sister and mother were playing. It was the red-haired woman from the shop. Her brown traveling cloak was covered in snow and soaked, as was her hair. She stopped, adjusted her hair, shivered a bit, and continued on up to the bar. She was fairly short, even standing. The barman returned a moment later. The woman looked up from blowing into her cold un-gloved hands and up at the barman. There were quite a few people in the bar and therefore a fair bit of noise going on. The woman had been over-looked by most for now. The barman gazed at the woman and frowned. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, you'll have to leave. I can't serve you here."

Ron could hear by the woman's voice that she was hurt. "But, sir, it's sn-"

The barman nodded to the door. "I don't mean to cause trouble but I believe I made myself quite clear. You will have to leave now."

"Nowhere is o-"

"Look! Leave now before you get yourself into something you can't get out of." People had stopped what they were doing and were watching the proceedings with interest.

The woman lifted her chin and re-arranged her posture a little straighter. "Surely, sir, you don't-"

"Get out!"

"All I'm asking is that you allow me to stay until the st-" the woman struggled to explain to this impatient man.

The barman fired up now. "We don't serve your kind here! Now I'll only tell you once: leave whilst you can. If you try my patience, you will find that it will snap," he clapped his hands loudly, the woman started, "very easily!"

Molly gasped, her hand over her mouth. "I don't believe this!"

The woman, however, seemed to believe the barman's threat and turned for the door, pulling her cloak closer about her chest. "Very good, sir. I see we are all mighty quiet this afternoon. Let me just say, your generosity abounds me. Dumbledore would be proud." This last statement wasn't sarcastic as Ron would have imagine such a retort to be, but sad, merely sad. As if she had set off a chain-reaction, people all around the bar shouted loudly about "traitors" and "slimy, evil no-gooders".

One woman stood up and stormed over to the red-haired woman, who was already half-way to the door, having ignored the uproar her words had caused. "Hey – YOU!"

The red-haired woman turned. The other woman had already raised her wand. The red-head was lifted off her feet and slammed against the wall with such force that a few bottles actually tumbled off their racks and smashed behind the bar.

Others from the bar and surrounding tables had gotten up to congratulate the woman. Molly was so pale she could have been Death itself. She took a deep calming breath, shook off her daughter's hand that had covered her mouth to stop her from shouting, shot her a hateful glare and got to her feet. She looked as though she was ready for a war. Ron pushed his chair back and jumped to his feet roughly. "Mum!" Molly glared at him as though he was little more than a cockroach in a gutter. "Mum – don't!"

"No filthy Slytherin will drink at our bar!"

"Hear, hear!"

"Go back home to your filthy pals!"

"Shouldn't you be out killing innocent women and children or something?"

"We don't want you here."

"ROT IN HELL, SLYTHERIN SCUM!"

Molly stopped dead in her tracks, Ron hanging onto her arm for dear life. "Leave her be, Mum, they'll only turn on you too. It's not worth it."

Molly turned to her child with such ferocity in her eyes anyone else would have likely died of fear right then and there. "She's not a human being, then, is she?! She's just a filthy Slytherin so we shouldn't give a stuff about her?"

Ron let go of her arm and stood up taller, although he needn't have; he was already a good bit taller than the woman. "That is _not_ what I said! I am not denying that someone _should_ stand up and say 'hey this isn't fair!', but it won't be you. A lot of people need you! We need you. I need you. So cut out this nonsense and get over there and sit down before someone curses you!"

Molly scowled but obeyed. Ron, knowing that what he was doing was very stupid, prayed that some sorry sod would have pity on him, and strode across the room to the woman's aid.

The crowd's jeering and congratulating died down to be replaced by anger. The woman had gotten to her feet shakily and was leaning against the wall, slowly dragging herself closer to the door. Ginny looked fearfully across at Harry as Ron reached the other side of the room, her fingers in her mouth. Ron took one of the woman's arms. "Let me help you."

She was shaking from head to toe, tears falling down her face in torrents. "Don't," she murmured. She tried to shrug him off.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Ron's voice was suddenly stern.

"They'll… hurt you."

Ron snorted. "Just let them try!"

"It… not… funny… I… ser… i… ous." They were almost at the door now.

"I'm serious too. Don't think that I'm not." He pulled open the door and was nearly blown back by the wind and snow. The woman finally managed to break free of his hold and slipped out into the storm, moments later engulfed by roaring white. Ron let go of the door. It slammed shut with a bang. He turned back to the silent crowd of on-lookers. "I'm damn glad to be in Gryffindor House!" he shouted in a cutting voice and smiled. With that he seized the door once more and stormed out into the white tempest.

Ginny hid her face in her hands. Molly grabbed her arm and pulled her to her unwilling feet. All eyes were on them. "Can't we just wait for a tiny wh-"

"We go now."

"But they-"

"They won't _do_ anything!"

Harry stood up also, fastening the buttons on his cloak properly. He wrapped an arm around Ginny's shoulder. "It's okay, Ginny. We all know you care. And I understand what you're coming at. We don't want to make things worse for ourselves either, and we don't want people to take it out on that poor girl that Ron acted the way he did. If that's the price of being human – you're damned if you do, you're damned if you don't.

It's the choice we all have to make some day. This day we have been given that chance. We stay and we condone this sort of behaviour; we go and we show that we support Ron's actions. So you see what we have to do? We are not welcome here anymore, that is all."

Ginny nodded and sniffed, burying her head in Harry's shoulder. "Damn Ron!" Her voice was muffled. She suddenly looked up and turned to her mother wildly, angry tears welling up in her eyes.

Harry squeezed her shoulders, diverting her attention from the older woman. "Don't be angry with Molly. She was just acting out of her best intentions. Ron would have done it anyway. It's too much of Hermione's influence. That girl's notorious for getting herself into sticky situations with very near misses at sticky ends."

Ginny choked and giggled despite her miserable mood. Molly pulled open the door and they were swallowed by the storm. Harry pulled Ginny closer to him and reached out a hand for Molly's hand. The pub was quiet. The storm roared loud above the silent earth.

oOo

The Christmas holidays were spent sitting by the fire to keep warm, reading school text books and writing to friends. Then there were the chess games, the chocolates from last Easter, the muggle records, the uncharacteristic lack of news from the Order. Harry wrote to Hermione Tuesdays and Fridays and studied with Ginny other times. Ron, however, could not concentrate on his book. The words were just words, beads with no string.

oOo

Ron sat on the kitchen table peeling potatoes. It was lucky that Molly was out doing shopping or she would likely have given him a good telling off. "Remind me again what the kitchen table is for, young man? Don't roll your eyes at me! How old would you say you are? Five?" Ron smirked. The radio was blaring old muggle music at full blast as Harry and Ginny practiced their dance steps. Ron laughed at them but he thought it was actually kind of sweet. He had put Ginny up to it, of course – and paid her dearly too – but it seemed to cheer Harry up a lot more than any slap in the face would ever have done. Ron was secretly proud that Ginny had managed to get Harry to agree to such a daft thing. Charm was one thing Ginny Weasley had learnt well, but unfortunately used rarely, preferring to be "practical" as she called it. Molly always said she needed a lesson in manners, but Ron didn't mind his sister's directness, he liked to know where he stood with people and Ginny certainly let people know where they stood with her. He smirked. He, however, had about as much charm as a goldfish had teeth.


	10. Chapter 10

**Oh What It Seemed To Be**

**Lily's outdoing me in Potions again. It's Wednesday afternoon. Lucius looks across at me and smiles. "You're not gonna let a girl beat you, are ya?"**

"**Hell, no!" I lie to his face. I know I am. Remus and James have a bet. James is betting on me and Remus on Lily. Poor Remus! If he keeps on losing bets like this he's gonna be broke, so I decided – ah, Hell, I'll let Lily win, she deserves it. Not that I'm entirely comfortable with the way Professor Slughorn's eyes look when they land on her, but she's daring enough to tell him where to shove that staring at her like that. It's not like her to back down on anything she believes in.**

**James looks at me funny at dinner, knows I let her win, thinks I did it to spite him. Glad he doesn't know the real reason, I smiled. Big mistake! I can see the way he turns the Sirius conspiratorially, I am so gonna pay for that one. Oh-uh… How do I get myself into all this?**

**oOo**

**Christmas. Not too thrilled. Bores the heck outta me. I'm staying at Hogwarts again. I never went home after Eileen died – no reason to.**

**Woke up at four. Dunno why? Crazy thing to do. Is it ever cold? Lucius's gone home for the holidays. Feel a bit bored actually… I decided to open my presents at five. I got four. Yay! Wow! I didn't know I was so popular. Gosh, that's scary. Hmm… It's too much suspense for me to take. I wonder who they're from. I know one will be from Lucius. I'm right, a book – on how to chat up girls. Oh dear? That one makes me laugh. Another from Pomphrey – a bottle of rum. I LOVE HER! Dumbledore, as usual, sent me a card and some sherbet lemon. Man, would he do a number if he knew what Pomphrey had given me… An evil scheme is forming in my mind… If I give the sherbet lemon to Pomphrey, make it look like Dumbledore had sent them… I grab the book Lucius gave me, wondering if it has a chapter on love letters.**

**Then I notice the fourth present. For a moment I am so sure it's from Eileen, but then I remember that she is no longer here with us. I smile glumly. She wouldn't want me to be glum, she'd want me to be happy. But she doesn't understand… I look back down to the present, pushing the memory of Eileen away. Likely candidates? Remus. A sudden thought hits me. God, no, not another book! I shrug. It'll be okay if it's not a book about chatting up girls. It's a book! How clever am I? How much do I love myself? Ah, shut up, Severus. A book about… Potions. I wonder, is it that obvious? Lucius must've squealed. I smile. Remus is silly, but coming from Remus I know it's nor fersecious. A little note falls to the floor with the revolting red and green striped wrapping. I pick it up. "Merry Xmas. Hugs and kisses, James."**

**That nearly scares the life out of me. I drop the book, but the golden feelers had already started to creep up my arms. Here it comes – payback! I try everything I can think of but the feelers won't budge. Got to admit – that's one good charm. I smile. I am crazy! Maybe I'll ask Remus about it later, that's if it's not meant to kill me, by which time "later" will mean I'm dead and won't be asking so much as a grindylow anything. I'm lifted off my feet, into the air. It's a creepy feeling. Always wanted to levitate! Are you kidding? God, no, heights make me sick, only… I really should keep that one to myself. Sirius might decide it's a good idea to chuck me off Gryffindor tower to cure my phobia of heights. Might not end so well… "Well, you know, teach, I didn't know he'd… splat. I thought I was doing him a friendly favour." Uh-huh. Not pretty.**

**A golden light explodes in the room. I fall back to the floor, spraining my ankle. Just my luck! I frown. Something's not right. I walk to the mirror. God, my hair must look a wreak, got to give it a good brushing one of these days. I shake my head. And SCREAM! Thanks a bunch, James – I've always wanted to be a girl. I roll my eyes, then decide never to do that again, it looks creepy. Now I really need to see Pomphrey so I march off to the hospital wing.**

**Of all the luck in the world, I've got the worst. It's six-thirty, I ask you? Somehow I end up being in the same corridor as a certain Lily Evans. Uh-oh? Here comes trouble. "Hi!" She waves to me brightly.**

**Err… Say something! "Hi back."**

**She giggles. "I like your hair."**

**Erm? "I do too. Like my hair, that is."**

**She nods, holds out her hand. "I'm Lily."**

**Take her hand! Take her hand, you crazy boy! Err? Or is that girl? Just take her hand – God, damn you! I take her hand, blushing. She shakes it. "S… Sarah."**

"**Cool. Are you new?"**

**I stare. Argh, that's got to be creepy. Think of something – hurry! "No," I blurt out, "not exactly… I, um, I'm Po… Poppy's niece."**

**She nods again. God, do try not to stare so much! She has a nice smile, a happy smile. "Are you staying long? You can hang out with Trish and me?"**

**I almost choke, pretend to be coughing instead. I really could do with that rum right about now. She frowns. "Got a bit of a cold," I explain, "I don't really don't know how long I'll be staying, till Mum and Dad get back from Cuba, I guess." I have to work on the whole making-things-up thing.**

**She smiles again. "Where are you going? Can I help?"**

**I shake my head like a crazy person. "Nah, um, just to… see Aunt Poppy." Gosh, that sounded rude. I want to kick myself. Way to go, sport. Way to scare a girl off before she's even had a chance to open her mouth. I try to think of something to say, some way to apologise.**

**Lily gets there first. "Oh, okay, see you round then." She waves half-heartedly, walks away.**

"**Yeah, see ya… round." Maybe I could just run over there and hug her. I hate that glum look she has. She turns at the corner and smiles brightly. All better… I suddenly realize why I had been in this corridor in the first place. Ah-oh… I cross my fingers. Changed my mind. Thanking my lucky stars.**

**oOo**

**That might have been a bit of an early assessment. Okay, a lot of an early assessment. Pomphrey tells me later – once she's finished laughing herself into asphyxia – that I'll just have to wait for the charm to wear off. However long that might be… Cos she doesn't know the counter-charm for it. Thanks a billion, Aunt Poppy, think I've got a better idea for those sherbet lemons after all.**

**oOo**

**Breakfast? I don't even want to mention it. First, Lily and her friend, Trish, corner me and make me sit with them for breakfast. They sure do eat a lot of strawberry ice-cream! Second, they decide they're bored with the library, decide to play snow fights outside instead, ambush some boys. Poor Remus is frozen to death by the time he finally makes it to the castle doors. I frown apologetically, letting him pass. He smiles nervously and dashes inside.**

"**What did you do that for?" Lily runs at me and pounces on me, knocking me to the ground with an almighty thump. Trish is jumping up and down and screaming behind her like a mad woman.**

"**Bitch fight! Yar! Li-ly! Li-ly! Li-ly!"**

**And I'm just staring like some three-year-old. Lily leans in close to me. Erm? "I think someone likes you." She smiles wickedly.**

"**What?" I splutter all over her. She rolls her eyes. I try not to think about how… uh-hum… I try not to think about it anyway.**

"**Remus and Sarah, sitting up a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G," she starts singing playfully, "First comes the carriage, then comes the baby-"**

**I don't wanna hear that. I reach up and hold her mouth shut with my hand. "That is so not true!"**

**Lily's green eyes grow large and she nods, mumbling something through my hand. I let go. "It is! Is too! Remus smiled at you."**

"**So?"**

"**The Smile."**

**I shake my head. Lily starts laughing and falls on top of me. Oh, erm, a little help. Anyone? "You're squashing me." I kinda don't mind, but like I'm gonna tell her that.**

"**Oh, sorry." She gets off me and plays angel in the snow. Girls are weird! Trish is building a snowman. I stare up at the cloudy sky. I hate being a girl! I hate James!**

**oOo**

**By lunch I was getting used to the whole act-like-a-girl thing. Even let Lily do my eyelashes with mascara – because it was Lily. Who could say "no" to those eyes?**

**oOo**

**Dinner? Wow! It's so far out there I just wanna die. Poppy was acting all niece-y on me. Dumbledore kept trying to feed me lemon sherbets. I'm gonna get fat. God, I'm even starting to think like them. Erk! Somebody save me from this nightmare!**

**I wandered off to be alone. No rum… Boo. Guess I'll have to settle for boring old punch. Lily and Trish catch me spiking the punch. I turn and quickly hide the bottle behind my back. Started to whistle – dead give-away! Lily raises her eyebrows. "Spiking the punch?" Damn – she was casual!**

**I rocked back and forth on my heels, put on my best innocent eyes. "Yep!"**

"**Cool." She fills three paper cups. "Cheers!"**

**I had had about five cups of punch, Lily two-and-a-bit and Trish hadn't even finished her first. Remus was sitting in a corner reading a book.**

"**OI! BOOKWORM!" I stared at Lily, waving my arms about frantically, trying to shut her up.**

"**What are you doing?"**

"**It's for your own good."**

**Oh no! Oh no! I tried to run for it but she grabbed one arm and Trish grabbed the other. "Guys, please, don't do this to me, I'm begging you…"**

**Lily gave me that "sorry, darl, no can do" look. Remus looked up. "What?"**

"**GET OVER HERE! ON THE DOUBLE! MARCH, SOLDIER!" Remus carefully placed his book down on a chair and strolled over. No! No, please! Go back! Go back! Please? Remus stared at her and Trish oddly, me held between them, two hands over my mouth to stop me from shouting out. Lily put on her sweetest, most innocent smile, fluttered her eyelids. Lily practically threw mw at him when he got close enough. God, damn you, Remus! How dumb are you?! "Sarah wants to dance with you." So that's how I was convinced to dance with Remus – coercion.**

**Remus turned out so red I thought he had suddenly been transfigured into a tomato. "Oh…" He looked over at me. Lily kicked me in the foot. I smiled in a frowning sort of way. "It's not fair," I wanted to shout, "Don't believe them, they're up to something. Can't you see it? They made me do it!" But I didn't. Remus bit his lip nervously. "Oh, um… okay."**

**I tried to give him a reassuring smile, but Lily and Trish staring back at me with those guilty smiles didn't exactly inspire joy.**

**Remus is actually good at dancing. But I was better. I love being egocentric! Yup! Admittedly Eileen had taught me when I was five. Tobias didn't like going out places, and he'd never take her dancing, didn't even like to hear music in the house, so she'd drag the old gramophone down to the basement and we'd dance there. I really didn't want to, it sounded so silly, dancing with your mother, but I didn't want to hurt her either, so I didn't object. It was so grand to see how happy it made her – for a while, anyhow. Suddenly I was five again, and there she was, lying in that bathtub with all that water over her like a heavy blanket. Those wide staring black eyes. That smile: so much joy, so much pain. The steam rising from the surface of the water, still as still could be. Her dark hair floating about her head unearthly. She was so pretty. But the reddish tinge to the water, those spirals of blood caught in the convection of the water as it cooled, twisting and twisting… "Oww!"**

**I stared up at Remus, bit my lip. "Sorry." I had stepped on his foot. He saw the horror in those eyes, my eyes. I turned away from him. I didn't want to be comforted. Not by him. Not by anyone. I sniffed. Stared over at the punch longingly. I didn't wanna be like him. Tobias. Cold. Regretful. Alone. No, I never wanted to end up like that. I turned back to Remus. "'M okay." He smiled. There was that feeling again, the one I had got the first time we had met. Pain? Horror? I looked into his eyes. And then I understood. Oh! "I'm sorry."**

**He gazed up at me, frowning. "Sorry? What for?"**

"**Y-your foot."**

**He tossed his head and smiled. "Oh, that. It's all better now. I'm all good." So he said.**

**After I'd escaped Remus, I headed back for the punch bowl, had about three cups of punch before I started feeling me again. Lily and Trish stormed over in high spirits. I wanted to disappear. "Well?" Lily demanded, "What happened?"**

"**Nothing," I replied glumly. Needed more punch. Hated that glum sound in my voice, it made me feel wretched, like I wanted to die.**

"**Sure!"**

**I rolled my eyes. God, don't do that, don't start with the savage retorts. I refilled my paper cup with punch. I tried to remember what we had been talking about, why they were staring at me like that, expectant. "If something had happened I wouldn't be standing here getting drunk on punch, popping sherbet lemons. I'd be off… kissing Remus or something." I tried to sound like I gave a stuff, as though I was ticked at them for staring at me that way, that funny tone in their voices when they spoke. The enthusiasm was gone. I didn't need punch anymore, I needed rum.**

**Trish hic-cupped beside Lily. "That makes sense."**

**Lily nodded in agreement. "So how come you aren't?"**

**I took the bottle of rum out from behind the pot plant, poured some into my paper cup. "Aren't what?"**

**She put her hands on her hips, pretended to be curious in a girly way, but she saw what I was doing. She placed a hand over my cup when it was three-quarters full. A tinge of annoyance came to her voice. "Off kissing Remus or something?"**

**I laughed into my rum. "You think I've actually kissed anyone before? No, siree, not on my life."**

**Lily started to laugh. "Never?"**

**I finished my rum. "Never ever ever."**

**She grabbed me by the shoulders. "You're a crazy girl, you know that?"**

**Did I not? We sat around drinking more punch. Trish fell over and fell asleep at some point. Pomphrey and Dumbledore were dancing to some waltz. McGonagall was talking to Flitwick, who was actually asleep, she was just too tipsy to notice. I drifted off into my own thoughts. I hadn't gone to the funeral. Eileen's funeral. My mother's funeral. I knew how she had died before they even told me, knew something was wrong the day that she did it. Same as before. Only this time I wasn't there to bring her back, to tell her much I loved her, how much I still needed her. I could imagine her there, those eyes staring and staring, searching and searching, but never moving, the tiny light gone out, the breath escaped her chest, and that red water… I hadn't understood all those years ago, hadn't understood why she had done it. But now I did. I was thirteen, not some stupid little boy who believed in stupid little nursery rhymes, stupid fairytales. Love had driven her to it. Such pain in her heart. She had always been so lovely, so forgiving, so strong. But it was all lies. Inside it was killing her, she wanted to love Tobias, wanted him to love her back. Suddenly I was angry. She had been so selfish. What about me? I loved her? Why did she go? Leave me all alone? Stupid bitch! I gasped. Oh, oh no… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I grasped my hands together, had to beg her for forgiveness, had to pray for redemption.**

**Lily patted me on the arm. I started and turned to her. "I don't believe you."**

"**Don't believe what?"**

"**That you've never kissed a boy."**

**I laughed, gazed into her eyes, fell into that green. "I haven't, I swear it on my mortal life!"**

"**Oh, come on-"**

"**It's the truth." I was indignant, had forgotten my troubled mind.**

"**So you've never played kiss chasey?"**

"**Goodness no!" And boy was I glad of it.**

"**Never?"**

"**Never."**

**She took another sip of her punch. "It's easy as pie!"**

**I grinned. "Making pie or eating pie?"**

**She giggled. "Avoiding the subject."**

**I shook my head. "Fine. I'm avoiding the subject. You win."**

**She couldn't stop giggling. I hid her cup of punch behind a pot plant and turned back to her. Pomphrey and Dumbledore waltzed past discussing pick-up lines. "i.e."**

**I frowned. "i.e?" A bell started to chime. I stared into her eyes, frowning. She was a funny girl.**

"**Id est." She suddenly lurched forward… and kissed me.**

"**LILY!" I pushed her away, held her at arm's length. She blinked.**

"**Teddy?"**

**The bells! It was midnight – the charm was broken. Lily was sick all over me. Oh boy! I really really hate James.**

**oOo**

**Back to being me again! I LOVE ME! And aren't I glad Lily doesn't remember too much on account of someone spiking the punch and her having about a bucketful of the stuff. I pray Remus never ever – EVER – says another word about Sarah.**

**oOo**

**I haven't been sleeping well lately. Dunno, but I feel kinda guilty 'bout Lily kissing me. Stupid, huh? I mean… It was… I liked it, didn't I? So what's wrong with that? She was drunk that's what. She… I… She didn't know what she was doing. She doesn't really mean it. I… want her to mean it, don't I? I couldn't love someone who didn't love me back. Couldn't make them love me, could I? I wouldn't hurt them that way, would I? And if they loved me but I didn't love them back, I'd tell them right? Right? I'd tell them "sorry, but I just can't, couldn't live a lie, couldn't lie to someone who loved me so much"? Right? That's right, Severus, you would. Geez, stop fussing over nothing!**

**Let me tell you the first time I met her, Lily Evans. I was four. It had rained in the night. I was playing in the front garden with my little blue gumboots. Eileen had seen them and just had to get them, said they were the cutest little thing she'd ever seen – save her little baby boy, of course. The little girl from next door – the one with the pretty red hair – was playing with a ball in her front yard. I looked up from what I was doing to watch her for a moment, my hands all muddy, jealous fit to bursting. If only I had a ball to play with… She was wearing silly red mittens, those silly red sandals. The ball rolled away from her. She ran down the drive to fetch it. I sniffed. Silly girl! Why should I be jealous of her? I **_**wasn't**_** jealous of her! She was silly. I didn't care. So what she had a pretty toy? A pretty garden? I turned to look away. I was cleverer than her. She was wasting her time playing with a silly ball. An ugly ball! I stopped, saw the car. The girl was bending over to pick her ball up. I was frozen, wanted to shout or scream, but nothing came. The man in the car slammed the brakes on but the car didn't stop, just kept on sliding. And then she was gone, beneath the car. No sound, no last words, no one to run and hold her hand and tell her it would be alright, not like in the movies. I still hadn't moved when the car sped away. There she was – dead.**

**I ran out to meet her. I had never seen a dead person before, not in real life anyway. Sometimes I would sneak out of my bed and sneak into the lounge room where Mummy and Daddy watched telly at night. I had seen someone die on a movie once, but it wasn't like that. All fascination at what a dead person really looked like escaped me when I got closer and saw her there. Sadness. All the feeling I felt. She didn't look like a person anymore. Just a thing: dead and mangled and bloody. I thought… Like the dead bird I has once found in the front yard. A cat had played with it till it died and then just left it, as though it was part of some grotesque spectacle in some sick museum.**

**I crouched down beside her and stupidly, as though I thought she would awaken, shook her. I wasn't scared either. Numb was more the feeling. Her head fell to one side, limp, and those dead eyes stared back into mine. I took her shoulders and shook her. "Wake up! Wake up!" I was impatient for her to do something, anything. I don't know what possessed me… Next thing I knew I was hugging her, and there were words. Words I didn't know. Words that spun and wove through all of time and space and being. Words that scared me. I was still hollering and rocking back and forth like a mad thing when she started to splutter and cough. Then she cried, cried as if she would never stop crying, as though her tears would simply cover up the earth and wash away all the evil of mankind. I knew then that this stranger child would be the only girl I ever loved: my darlyng dere, my daysy floure.**

**I held her at arm's length to try to talk some sense into her. I had to get her off the road. "It's okay now. You don't have to be scared. I want to play ball with you. Will you let me?"**

**She sniffed and hic-cupped. I wiped her tears away on my neon green coat with the colourful cat pattern and stared into those green eyes. She nodded. I took the pretty ball up and took her hand to help her to her feet. The sky opened up and it rained. Her mother ran out, pink rubber gloves still on her hands, wet and soapy as though she had just been doing dishes. She saw her little girl with me, the grubby little boy from next door where she often heard a lot of shouting and arguing. Saw us holding hands. "Honey?" There was shock in her eyes. The little girl looked around at me. I let go of her hand, passed her the ball had been clutched to my chest with the other hand.**

"**Bye," she said and let her mother drag her inside.**

**I traipsed back to my front yard. When I looked up she was gone. "Bye," I mumbled. Mummy was inside, sleeping. Daddy was at work. I went inside to dry off in front of the stove and make Mummy a coffee. Daddy always got so mad when he came home from working and found that all she had been doing was sleeping. I had to wake her up later. I looked up at the clock. I wasn't time yet, I would let her sleep a little longer, she seemed so peaceful that way, so happy, so pretty.**

**Mummy was right – I was special. Daddy was right – I was wrong.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Can't Speak My Mind**

"Professor Halliwell?"

The young Potions Mistress turned away from the blackboard she was scribbling notes on for her next class. "Mr. Weasley?"

Ron was breathing heavily, having just run all the way to class. "I was up at the hospital wing, Professor. Madame Pomphrey had wanted to see me."

"Alright, take a seat. The rest of the class has just begun on their assignments I handed out yesterday." She turned back to the board.

"Thank you." Ron gazed around the room. Harry was sitting with Ernie Macmillan and Hermione with a certain Zabini Blaise. Ron frowned and turned back to front. "Professor-"

Professor Halliwell spun around and stared at Ron as though he was seriously trying her patience. "What is it now, Mr. Weasley?"

"What… Are we supposed-"

"Do you remember yesterday when I handed out these assignments?"

Ron nodded, frowning. "I do."

"Then you recall also that I mentioned that you would be working in pairs?"

"Yes." She pointed to the left side of the board where a list of names had been written. Ron frowned. Harry Potter… Ernie Macmillan. "Oh. Thank you, Professor." He scanned down the list of rather irritating curly letters. Ronald Weasley… Pansy Parkinson. Ron groaned. This day wasn't getting any better.

Pansy sat at the back of the room. She had already started their assignment, intent on the notes they had been given the day before. Ron slowly made his way to the back of the room, feeling colder and colder with every step he took. He reached the desk but Pansy did not look up. She was singing to herself.

"…I couldn't bear to go on because right from the start

You've been my dream, every hour, every day

And I've wanted to love you, so please let me stay

No don't send me away, oh my darling

Open your hearrrtttt! Yeeees, yessssss.

I find it hard to believe that you don't really care,

Don't ever turn away-"

"Hi."

Pansy dropped the notes she was holding. She blushed and quickly ducked to retrieve them from under the desk. "You read these?"

Ron shook his head. "No."

"Me neither." She scrunched up her nose. "I was meaning to last night but I guess I just couldn't be bothered. I'm getting so lazy these days. It's funny..." She fell short.

Ron shrugged and moved around her to the other chair and sat down. He placed his books carefully at the end of the desk, as far from the girl's as possible without them over-balancing and toppling to the floor. He opened his red folder and took out the notes from yesterday. He started to read.

Pansy frowned and turned back to her own notes. A moment later she burst into raucous laughter, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Severus, you idiot!" Her notes once more fell to the floor. She stood up and backed into the desk as though someone had taken her by the shoulders. Ron's books slid off the desk and paper and ink spilt all over the cold stone. Her stared angrily across at Pansy. Pansy was giggling, struggling for breath. "Don't be silly, those sort of words don't exist in my vocabulary. It's the truth, I swear." She started to giggle again.

Ron stood up angrily, seized her by the front of her clothes. "What's wrong with you?"

Pansy stopped giggling all of a sudden. She stared back at Ron for a moment. Then she pushed him away, snatched up her notes and went back to reading them. Ron rolled his eyes at her cold expression and returned to his own notes.

Pansy started singing to herself again. "Here are the kisses I've saved up for you, so if you'd only try one, stop me and buy one, so come to my arms, it's so easy to do, won't you stop me and buy one today." Tears had started to splosh down onto her notes, the ink melted into the salty tears and ran down the page in large grubby tracks.

Ron shook his head. "I'm sorry, okay," he hissed. Pansy sniffed and angrily brushed her tears away.

oOo

Ron sighed and strolled into the library. He headed for the Potions aisle, but stopped. He could hear raking sobs coming from somewhere up ahead. He peered around the corner. Pansy was knelt on the floor clasping her shaking hands together in her lap, staring up at the ceiling. "Please. Please make it stop. I can't take it anymore. I don't know where I begin and she starts. I just want to be me. Please. I'm begging. It's killing me. When I was young it was just feelings, that's all, but now," she sobbed, "it's all I ever think of. It's like she takes me over, and I'm no longer Pansy, but her, Lily. And I don't want to be Lily… I want to be Pansy!" She thumped her head down on the carpet and sobbed loudly. "I don't understand," she mumbled to herself despairingly, "just let me know I'm not going mad, I can't go on, I really can't… Oh, please, I want to die!"

Ron backed away. He couldn't hear anymore of this. It was crazy.

oOo

He sought refuge in a good muggle comic book, but all that he had read in that tiny maroon book and all that he had heard from that mad girl chased each other around in his head and just wouldn't leave him alone. Harry sat on the couch discussing Quidditch with Ginny whose feet were tucked under her legs. Hermione was reading the paper in an arm chair. Ron's hands were shaking. The bright pictures only made his uneasy feeling increase and he started to feel sick. "Our song. We used to call it our song. It helped us say hello once. It made us fall in love once, without knowing. Oh and how we tried so not to show it, even though we didn't know it.

Our song became a little sadder, when it didn't seem to matter. Even when I kissed you, I couldn't please you. And then all at once, our love was gone, all you left me was our song." Hermione folded up her paper and looked across at Ron. Harry and Ginny were still as intent on Quidditch as ever. "Every time I hear that song I just cry. Now we don't belong, we've said our goodbyes. I'm still wondering why, with tears in my eyes." Hermione frowned.

"Our love started like a song, but the melody went wrong. There's nothing left to do now, but forget you. So I look around for someone new, someone who is very lonely too. And I wait for love to come along LIKE I DID THE FIRST TIME I HEARDDD - OUUUURR SOOOOONNNGG."

"Ron?"

"I think I'm gonna be sick." Ron stood up and rushed off, looking very pale.

Hermione stared across at Harry and Ginny. "Ron sings?"

Ginny smiled, much to Hermione's shock. "Used to. When he was little. Mostly when he was worried. Or scared. There was this one time I was utterly convince there was a monster under my bed and wouldn't go to sleep cos I thought it would gobble me up when I fell asleep. So Ron always used to sing this song about purple-people eaters. I wanted to throttle him. He thought it was funny, me being scared of the monsters under the bed. Then one day he told me that monsters didn't like people singing songs about them. Cos people were supposed to be scared of them, see, not sing songs about them. So all I had to do was sing that song and they would go away. I was four, so I believed him. It seemed to work. Mum used to sing too, when she did the dishes or the washing or something. Dad always said he got it from her. I think it's cute. But one day he just got over it, when he was six I think. Probably realised people thought he was weird. And chics so do not dig it! Well not when they're six."

Harry and Hermione were both frowning. "Maybe Ron's still worried about that whole Slytherin thing. It is a bit strange that nobody's even mentioned it."

Ginny nodded, her smile vanishing now too. Hermione was at a loss. "What Slytherin thing?"

Harry and Ginny both looked around at Hermione. And smiled. "So you wanna know how Ron's got the whole world hating him?"

"Oh, Ginny, you are so silly. Surely it can't be that bad."

Harry smirked. "But it could be worse."

Hermione looked exasperated. "Oh go on then. Tell me all about how the whole world's got it in for poor old Ron. What'd 'e do, steal a lollipop?"

"He did one better – stood up for a Slytherin."

"No!"

"True. My bro's officially gone crazy."

Harry nodded. "Yup. And you all thought I was mad."

Ginny spun around to face him, frowning. "What are you talking about? You are mad!"

Harry snorted. "Ppp! Thanks a lot, Ginny. That's gratitude for ya. Mad? Hhh." Harry crossed his arms, looking dejected.

Ginny was nearly killing herself trying not to laugh. She put on a mock sad face. "But so am I, darl. We should start a club."

Harry smiled. "Who do we hate?"

Ginny smirked back. "Somebody who's no longer our Potions Master."

"Who do we hate too?"

"Ex-Professor Umbridge."

"And what do we say?"

"If love makes the world go round, why can't they just love each other and leave us alone?!"

Harry and Ginny high-fived and fell about the couch in fits of laughter. Hermione was sure her friends had all gone mad. She wondered how long it had taken them to come up with such a stupid routine, it reminded her of a bunch of little children huddled in a shelter shed in a school yard somewhere, whispering to each other as if they where the keepers of the biggest secret in the world. She smiled. If they were mad, at least they were happy too. "So, what was that song Ron was singing?"

"Jackie Trent."

"Who?"

"Muggle singer Dad liked."

"I'm a muggle." Hermione frowned. Harry started to laugh again. Hermione really didn't like not knowing something.

"Big in the sixties and seventies. So, I'd say, you're a bit young to be a part of that era, darl," Ginny told her through her giggles.

"Oh."


	12. Chapter 12

**Broken Heart, Broken Wings**

**I don't know why I did it, joined the Dark Lord's forces. I suppose I was stupid, thinking I could somehow protect Lucius, keep him as I remember him, my best friend, a good friend, a good person. But he had changed and I was stubborn on the point of becoming ignorant. I guess some small part of me felt that I belonged with these people. The things I had seen, the things I had done, had done to me. Something inside of me was wrong and there was nothing to be done, nothing to be mended, and it scared me, so much, so many nights. There was this thing inside of me, this other person, one who would not himself be hurt, who was strong, and I so desperately needed to be strong. I gave in. I started to become somebody else, somebody I could hate, somebody nobody could love, somebody who would be safe from the world. But then would I be safe from the one person I needed to love me, myself? No… It was so difficult to leave that old life behind, so difficult to try to be something I knew deep down inside I was not, but I would not end up like Eileen, would not hurt another the way Tobias hurt Eileen.**

**I so desperately needed something in this world, this life, to be right. Blind faith. I am still so young and I guess it shows. Oh, I thought I could be grown up, but it's just laughable! I could laugh so much…**

**Cold. Rude. Mean. Somehow "needy" didn't fit into that equation. How could I need someone? How could someone need me? When I couldn't see past my own obsession with my shitty childhood, with myself, and my damned determination to make something better of myself.**

**It had been different once, so different, but I pushed those memories away. What was the good of love? I had loved Eileen once. She had upped and left me in this shitty world alone. And Lily, how I had loved her… She was like the sister I had never had, the long lost friend, the carer, the protector… She was so many things to me, had been so many things for me. But now… I knew James loved her. He would look after her, be there when she needed him, love her the way she deserved to be loved, wouldn't try to change her.**

**That's how I knew I had to give her up, that first day at Hogwarts when we had met again for the first time in six years. That tiny four-year-old had been so sure that little girl was the only one he would ever love, could ever love, but I had changed. That little boy was gone. Time had made it so. One thing I hadn't counted on that little girl. I had been so sure so would never remember me. I was wrong. There seemed to be some strange supernatural bond between us, and I guess it had been forged that day I brought her back from the clutches of Death. A four-year-old is ignorant of so much… but this is what allows them to know so much too. We were no longer four. The things I had seen, the things I had done. I gave her up because I never wanted her to know those things, I knew what they did to good people.**

**As an eleven-year-old I was cold. I wanted everyone to hate me, hated myself. It scared me when someone gave me that look that said "I wanna love you, help you, but you've got to open your and let me in first". I did not want to be loved, wanted to suffer, because surely it was better than the pain love could inflict. Pain was good to me, made me see straight, gave me perspective. I was crazy. Love made me sick, the whole concept, and I had seen how sick love could be. I had seen what love had done to Eileen, how it hurt her more and more each day, hurt her to watch as Tobias slowly slipped farther and farther from her loving arms, hurt her to see the end so clearly, she could not help him, no matter the time that passed. Problem was: Lily was so easy to love, but ever so easy to hurt. I told myself she was a foolish little girl, told myself I had to make her hate me. I hated her, why shouldn't she hate me?**

**oOo**

**Lucius turned to me, rubbing his hands, and not from cold. "Ah, Severus, I have a little surprise for you. I think that you will be pleased. Yeeesssss…" I sneered. Lucius thought too much. I looked away from him, away from those cold grey eyes. I hated when he got that look in his eyes; that sound in his voice. "It's this way." He swept off, me at his heels. We came to a cell and I frowned. Another prisoner to interrogate… They made me so angry. Their minds were so feeble. He opened the door but did not step inside. "Well?"**

**I shook my head. "What?"**

"**Go on. It's a surprise – just for you."**

**I rolled my eyes. "How thoughtful of you." He leered unpleasantly. I took my leave of that evil grin and entered the cell. And stopped. There was such a feeling of… I don't know, unease – I guess. Anyhow, it made me want to be sick right there and then. But then I saw her, huddled in a corner, knees drawn up to her chest, and her eyes: oh so empty – Lily Potter. I knew I had to do something to disguise my horror. I turned to Lucius. "This should be most pleasing indeed! Ever since school…" I trailed off. He grinned. The door was shut in my face. I felt trapped, trapped in this room with that thing that was no longer Lily Potter. Look at her, look at your love**_**.**_** I forced myself to do it. The sight of her was sickening. I started across the room angrily. She was a stupid girl! Why had she done this to herself? Why had she let him do this to her? Stupid bloody mudbloods! I was so angry with her. I snatched a handful of her no longer pretty hair and pulled her to her feet. Her green eyes fell on mine and they were just hollow orbs. I threw her against the wall. Stupid girl! She didn't make a sound, her hollow eyes staring through me, unseeing. I leant in close to her, whispered in her ear. "Why are you here?"**

**She began to laugh, the sound as though it had been wrenched from some deep dark recess of her former self. I hit her. Why wouldn't she stop laughing? Why wouldn't she stop me hitting her? Why wouldn't she be strong? She had always been, hadn't she? Hadn't she? It was as though everything I had ever known about this woman flew out the window. I did not know. Not anymore. Did not know her. All I had known of her had always been based on my need. I had put her up on some impossibly high tower. I had thought that if I could protect her then she would be fine. She had been perfect in every way, but reality was far from this.**

**The door opened. I let go of her clothes. She dropped to the floor in a heap. Lucius stood there smirking. "She refuses to tell me," I began.**

**Lucius's smile widened. "There is no need in asking, Severus, we know why she id here. I did not send you here to interrogate her. But if you feel you need to know I shall be more than happy to oblige. She came looking for her friend, a filthy little bitch known as Miriam Cosby. Working for the Ministry. Dumb bitch thought she could spy on us. Hah! Filthy blood traitor! Got what was coming to her too." Lucius had an unpleasant glint in his eye.**

**I nodded. "I'm sure she did!" I laughed, feeling sick with myself.**

**I looked back to Lily. Lucius nodded to her. "She is yours. Teach her some manners for me, will you?"**

"**Manners?"**

**Lucius looked upset at me for my apparently foolish question. "She tried to kill me, the bitch!"**

"**It will be done." I dragged her from the room, took her to see Bellatrix.**

**Bella cooed. "She **_**is**_** pretty. A pity Lucius has given her to you. No matter, Severus, I will see to it that she serves you well." I nodded. Bella looked away from me and knelt down and took Lily's face in her hands. "Your friend has gone from this place. Be thankful, my pretty. Her suffering has ended. But, for you it has just begun. The life of a Familiar is a hard one. I should know. But you are tough. You will manage, I daresay." She stood and turned to me. "You must leave now. There is work to be done." I obeyed.**

**oOo**

**Bella came to see me later, in complete despair. "Whatever he did to her, he really did a number on her. He can be a real bitch sometimes. Sometimes I think he's not human at all. I lied to you earlier, Severus, she would have been pretty – and I'm sure you will confirm this – she looks too shocking to be alive, frankly."**

**I nodded to my shoes. "I saw it in her eyes at once. There is nothing left. No Lily, no no-one."**

**Bella shivered. "You've got your work cut out for you then. Now that all seems to be in order – have fun." She swept from the room, probably gone off to have a whinge somewhere or a bitch at someone. Bella is strange like that. She wants to be cold, but cold just doesn't want her. She always puts on a big show of cold-heartedness when she is really upset about something. Sometimes I really wonder why she got into this at all.**

**oOo**

**I swept from the room, my usual gloom-and-doom self. I might look just another nasty little bugger who loves the sound of his own voice too much, but I'm not completely dumb. Due to my Legillimens training – which I was pretty good at, if I may so say myself – I had known already that my Lily was gone from this woman. I guess I shouldn't even use that word. What Lucius had done to her wasn't human. There was nothing human left in that thing. Lily was gone. I don't know if I could ever bring her back, but I had to try. I owed her that much. She had once been human, had once had so much to live for, so much potential, such a big heart. It would be an insult to her memory not to try, but I admit, even I was put out at times. There was no feeling left inside her. Some days I wanted nothing more than to have my Lily back and not this thing that deceived my eyes with the appearance of her. I hated Lucius so much, realised how stupid I had been. I had no hope of saving him from the start. Clever old little me, just realised it now, kept on trying to find ways to forgive an old friend. But now that was all gone. The things people could do to each other, it made me wish I wasn't part of this species at all.**

**oOo**

**She was so badly beaten that at first I was too pre-occupied with keeping her alive to do much. I knew I could never forgive Lucius for this. If I could have cursed the little bastard, I would have. Very few would mourn him, I assure you that, he wasn't particularly popular, even among the likes of the Dark Lord's followers. Sometimes I grew angry with James too. Why hadn't he looked after her? Made sure she didn't run off and do anything stupid? But I knew the answer even before I asked the question. That was just Lily! Her heart over-ruled her head. Poor silly little sweet Lily.**

**My Potions abilities aside, Lily would surely have died had I not intervened. I swore that day, way back when, the day Eileen died, that I would never again use my healing for anything, anyone. It would be just as if I had never had this curse, just as if Tobias had never tried to kill me once for healing that dead bird in the chimney grate. But Lily… I prayed that I had not lost the gift, prayed that I could still heal her. Some days I thought that she would be the death of me, and I was only human after all. The bond that the Healer shared with the patient did little to improve things. I felt absolutely crap just about every other day, knew that Lily must feel a hundred times worse, wanted to die rather than see her suffer like this, thought about killing her myself. It would be more humane. But I was selfish and childish. I had my heart set on healing Lily, and that was what I was going to do. I knew I couldn't live with myself if I didn't, couldn't live knowing that Lily was no longer alive. Lucius wasn't making things easier either. He had put some pretty nasty curses on her and I was having a hard time undoing them, having a hard times even reversing their effects for long enough to figure out how to break them. I had been foolish, plunging into this without thinking about the consequences first. It took some time, but I managed. Lily wasn't going to die after all, but what she was going to live as…**

**I could likely heal her mind enough for it to kick in and start figuring things out for itself, but I knew I could never heal her heart, knew Lily just wouldn't be Lily anymore. It was just something I had to accept. It was like bringing up child, but much harder, to try to bring her back to some semblance of humanity, and she got pretty viscous at times, it scared the heck outta me, I gotta say. Some days I didn't want to see her at all, but my sweet little four-year-old Lily always got the better of me. Lily slowly started to resemble something that was supposed to be alive and not some sort of monster brought back from the dead in much the same manner as Frankenstein's Bride. My Legillimens skills came in handy. I was able to dig up some of Lily still left inside her, trying not to get lost myself. Was that ever frightening? It's actually strange how much of Lily seemed to come flooding back, floating just below the surface. Hope was not entirely lost. Having to piece a living, breathing, feeling being back together is not a good feeling, not a happy responsibility. What is I did something wrong? What if I turned her into something I wouldn't like? What if she turned out unlike my Lily at all? So many "what if"s.**

**Lucius resented me, of course, for what I had done. Had probably wanted to see her die, or worse, stay as that thing forever.**

**Bella, however, was pleased. "I can finally begin to instruct her on the ways of a Familiar." She sighed and gave me a brief smile. "Good job, Severus." She strolled off s though I had done nothing more serious than making a cup of coffee. You wouldn't have wanted to see me scowl then. Seriously like a five-year-old chucking a wobbly. Ewww… Scary even thinking about it. God, I can be childish. So later Lily went off to see Bella for her lessons. I was jealous. Bella stealing her away from me…**

**oOo**

**Lily and I were to do many terrible things as Familiar and Master, and many nights we spent together in effort to forget those terrible things. Lily was given to be given a new name. Bella first mentioned this, said I had to choose a name for her. The Taken should not know too much of their past or else it tempt them from their path. I, of course, had ignored this little rule and went ahead and told Lily absolutely everything about I could recall of her old life that was supposed to be a former life. Bella got very annoyed at one point. "We can't go on calling her Lily, you know this, Severus, it may trigger unwanted memories."**

**I shrugged. "Hope, we'll call her Hope."**

**Bella frowned as though she thought I was crazy only she had never seen it before. "Why Hope?"**

"**It's good to have hope. Hope is good for us. Hope is good for me."**

**Bella rolled her eyes. "Get outta town. You're going soft in your old age."**

"**I am **_**not**_** old."**

"**Are too."**

"**You're older."**

"**Don't give a stuff."**

"**Sure you don't."**

**Bella growled. "Say one more word about my age and I'll teach L- Hope something that'll be really good for you."**

"**Bella, you're evil."**

"**I know," she smiled, "Aren't I sweet? Don't you just love me?"**

"**Love to throttle you more like."**

**The smile disappeared from her face, she made to smack me across the face, but I had dashed off and she couldn't be bothered to chase after me. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, tossing herself down the old sofa in her room. "You know what," she asked the sofa, "You're a pretty crap sofa, but you're good enough for Bella." She shook her head. "Bella, Bella, Bella. Always settling for second best. Bella be good now, don't you whinge now, don't you shout now, don't you scold now. Bella be good and love us like you should. Ah, stuff you all. Bella this! Bella that! What about poor old Bella?" She chuckled to herself. "Bella – darling – you don't understand what life is about. How can you? One so young. One so precious and innocent. Bella be good, shut up, stop rambling and listen for once. Bella be good and forget that old life, all those silly dreams, all those rainy days you wished would come again just to be close to your sisters again. Bella, Bella, Bella. No longer young. No longer innocent or young. Bella, you're a bad girl. And don't she know it! Bella, you're one crazy thing. Yup."**

**oOo**

**Lily was numb and I was cold, but when there was work to be done none of this mattered. Lily did not trust me of course, and had said as much; nor did she love me. I had finally achieved my one true aim, I had taken back my heart, but all of a sudden I wasn't so sure what I wanted anymore. Damn, I was sick. I truly belonged with these people. Funny thing, despite my superiority to her Lily always seemed to have ways to sway me into doing what she wanted. At first when we had been assigned to recruiting support Lily had tried to talk people into joining so that they would not be hurt, but in the end I think she realised what these people would be forced to do was far worse than any death they were faced with.**

**Lily was alive, yet she was dead, her heart had died, and this gave her a kind of reckless air – a person with nothing to lose. Lily was often required to use her charms to sway a particular person, and she was damn charming when she wanted to be. Bella had taught her well in the ways of seduction and the likes, and Lily was a master at it. Bella was particularly proud of this fact. It was no secret that the Familiar's most primary role was to please her Master, to make him happy. And this Lily did with exceeding skill and undue ferociousness. She scared me sometimes. But Lucius himself seemed envious at times. This made Bella laugh. She was an odd woman. If you'd know her the way I had, you'd know she was basically a good person at heart, even though she tried so hard to deny it. Some days I wondered how it would end for Bella.**

**I was pre-occupied with other things though. Every day a little piece of the Lily I had fought so hard to piece back together seemed to fade away before my eyes, eaten from the inside out. I had to get her out. I hurt me so much to see her slip away like this, much more than it had hurt me to be see her broken the way she had been. I had to put an end to it, had to get her out, give her a chance to heal her heart.**

**Like a good little boy, I found a way to save the damsel in distress, returned her to her Prince Charming and his waiting arms. I would miss her, miss her presence, her company, the comfort she gave me at night; but in my heart I knew it was wrong to want to keep her for myself at the expense of her soul. For Lily her heart truly was the gate way to her soul, the mirror of her spirit, her one guiding star.**

**oOo**

**It was really a pretty stupid thing to do. I could have died, we both could have, but I did it anyway. I found a way to break away from the others, a way to take her home where she could with a chance heal and be happy. We Apparated in a cold dark wood. Her body shivered in my embrace. She would need feeding up. "You must leave me now," I told her, "Go home to your husband and friends." She never let go of me, never spoke a word. I took her shoulders and held her at arm's length, but she wouldn't look at me. "Do you not understand? I am setting you free! Now go. GO!" I pushed her chin up and stared deep into those green eyes. "Go home." I grew tired of her complete lack of action. I slapped her hard across the face. She was wasting this opportunity. She fell to the cold hard ground. "You must obey me! I am telling you to go home. Do you understand me, little girl?"**

**She sniffed loudly and threw her arms around me ankles as though trying to stop me leaving. In the end I was given no choice but to walk her home. The sun was just starting to come up when we arrived at Godric's Hollow. Lily did not look up or even acknowledge its presence. We had stopped, but she was not budging, her head remained determinately buried in my shoulder. We walked up to the front gate, pushed the gate open, followed the stone path up to the front door. I pulled away from her. She stood with her head hung. I was glad I could not see those eyes, for they might have shown sadness, and that was one thing I didn't want to know about. "I will go now. You must stay here. Will you do this for me?" I lifted her chin once more. Tears ran silently down her pale face. I shook my head. "Don't be silly now. Stop that crying! It's childish." I brushed her tears away and turned to go.**

"**Don't go," she murmured.**

**I did not reply, did not turn back. She began to cry noisily and it unsettled me. I couldn't turn back now. If she hated me so be it, she had hated me before, she could do it again. I swept silently into the shadows, left her crying alone at her front door. I watched as a light appeared in an upstairs window and came down to the front door. James stood staring at his wife as though she were a ghost. Then he took her in his arms and pulled her inside. The front door shut softly. I turned away.**


	13. Chapter 13

**O Blue Blue Day**

Pansy sat in the window of Myrtle's bathroom, her face in her hands, big fat tears rolling jollily down her pale cheeks, hot salty tears turned bitterly cold on those cheeks of carved stone.

Myrtle stood chuckling to herself, delighted beyond measure by the girl's gloom-and-doom mood.

Pansy started to sob loudly. "I never asked for this, do you hear me?!" she screamed to the still air. "I have tried and tried. I really have. I can't do it anymore! Why? God, damn it, what have I ever done? I've tried to do the right thing. But it's killing me. If I have done wrong I was ignorant. How can you punish me for that? Why are you doing this to me? I can't do it anymore! You hear me? I can't!"

"I'm heart-broken, I really am," Myrtle cackled. Pansy looked up from her hands, her wet cheeks shining with icy tears. The small girl slipped down from the window, stormed across the room; straight through the ghost girl without pause. She wrenched the door open with some unnatural strength and strode out into the hall. Myrtle growled, her fists scrunched up, and turned to the door, which had slammed loudly on its hinges. "Oh, I hate the Living!"

oOo

Pansy stood by the lake and stared into its calm depths. She took a deep breath and shut her tired eyes, her arms out wide; feeling the harsh wind on her face, her skin. She smiled and pulled her cloak off; folded it neatly and put it down on some rocks behind her, smoothing its dark surface almost lovingly. She smiled; pulled the silver pocket watch from her neck, its cold caress lingered on her skin. She placed the watch down on her cloak. Cold wind cut her skin, sent wisps of dark hair flying in her face, obscuring her pale features, her eyes as dark as coal, lined with kohl. She slipped the silvery snake ring from her finger, kissed its icy surface, the sharp taste of metal in her mouth. The anklet bell around her left ankle joined the ring and watch on her cloak, silver on black, stars in a night's sky. She hummed softly as she went about her duty. Yes, all was in order, all was as it should be.

Taking a last look at the castle at the castle that had been her home for so long, she waded out through the chill water, the water all at once silky soft against her skin and piercing stone cold metal. She tipped her face to the clear heavens, smiled at the blue blue day, her heart as boundless as the sky. Her heart full to bursting with joy, she plunged deep into the murky depths to meet her watery grave. Even as she swum deeper and the air bubbled from her mouth and tore at her lungs; even as the water chilled straight through her skin right into her bones, she was as happy as she had ever been, happier than she would ever be again. Gone were the cares of the world, the shames of man, the lies of the heart. She was free! Finally, ecstatically, inordinately free! And would always remain so. The blue grey morning turned to bright sunny day all around her. She began to laugh and her last breath escaped her, water like ice gushed into her lungs…

oOo

Ron had to get out of that dormitory. He couldn't stand the thought that he was lying to his friend, but he could not yet tell him what he had read in the book, he was not that brave. He walked towards the lake. It cool dark endless depths always helped him to gather his thoughts. He was brought out of his day-dreaming but a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. He turned and regarded a small figure in the water. The figure plunged deep beneath the surface. Ron frowned and picked up his pace. _It's Winter! Who the Hell goes swimming in Winter? Only head jobs_. Ron's heart stopped momentarily in his chest. He searched the surface of the water for any sign of movement but the figure wasn't coming back up. _Unless they didn't go to swim at all_. He started to run towards the lake. A stitch tore at his side, pebbles and rocks slipped beneath his boots and the breath hardly reached his lungs. He forced himself to keep on going; he would not stop, and then he saw it: the neat pile of valuables the figure had left by the shore. A girl. A Slytherin. And he knew who it would be, but he wouldn't let her do it, couldn't let her. He needed to know… so much. So many questions raced through his mind, swelled in his head, but all of this was silenced, and only one thought: save her.

It was a good ten minutes before he found her, floating with her face down like some dead thing, tangled in some reeds by the shore. The sight of her wrenched the breath from his lungs, forced all logic from his brain. He wasn't aware of her weight, or his own tiredness. He took her in his arms and carried her up to the castle, through the cold towering halls to the hospital wing. Madame Pomphrey stared at him as he entered, the lifeless girl in his arms, and then he collapsed. A hand flew to the old woman's mouth as the truth dawned on her. She ran to his side. "Help her!" he murmured. She nodded. He passed out.

oOo

Ron turned over in his bed, restless. He couldn't keep his thoughts from straying to that tiny figure, lifeless and pale, as cold as Death. His mind recalled that neat pile by shore. The anklet bells. He recalled that day in the Apothecary, out of the dusty shadows and towering shelves, the young woman with the red hair, the soft tinkling of bells, the sound of words upon her boysenberry lips like the whisper of the wind on a cool blue day or its roar on a storm black night, and he understood.

Madame Pomphrey told him when he'd woken that she'd been taken to St. Mungo's, but there had been no word since. He didn't even know if she was still alive. He needed her to be, he didn't know what he'd do if she were to die. She couldn't die. She was the only one who could help him. It's terrible, he thought, to worry so much about a person he hardly knew. He sat up in his bed. He would do it, he would finish the book.

A candle flickered on the bedside cabinet. Harry was mumbling in his sleep, something about Quidditch from what Ron could tell, and he was glad his friend was not dreaming about a certain someone who wanted him dead. Neville was snoring loudly. Ron took out the small maroon book, turned to the page he had ear-marked.

oOo

**Heaven knows, I'm crazy. The whole frigging world knows it. I must be crazy, to do the things I do. One day I'm gonna need a frigging good shrink. But I probably won't have enough money, all these head doctors charge through the roof. I could always see Pomphrey. Hmmm… She'd probably just tell me to get over it, get meself a bottle of vodka or the likes. Oh, I talk a load of nonsense. Note to self: burn this frigging book already. All of my famous philosophies… Not so grand after all. Look at you, Severus. Look what you've become. God, Eileen would really be proud! Thinking I could save Eileen from her heart. Thinking I could save Lily from the world. I guess she reminded me a lot of Eileen. Don't think about our sweet Lily. And Lucius, thinking I could save that poor bugger from himself. I can't even save myself. Thinking I had a bloody inkling. I don't, none at all. But, God, am I a know-it-all? Got to get myself out of this crazy predicament. Typical of me, get myself into it, can't get out of it. God, I miss Lily. She always knew a thing or two about getting out of sticky situations. See, there we go, back to Lily.**

**McGonagall was being a right pain in the arse yesterday. Can that woman talk? Three hours flat. Uh-huh, it's not a pretty thing to have to hear. That little talk drove Dumbledore back to his sherbet lemons, never gonna eat sherbet lemon again thing aside. Well I guess Pomphrey won the bet. Damn her!**

**I think I should just resolve to stop thinking so much, all it's done is brought me trouble. Heartaches by the number. Funny little song. I should have become one of them, never knowing the world was wrong, never knowing anything but what I was told. Holy Mary, mother of Jesus and all that… Tobias was a muggle after all, dragged me off to church every Sunday, said he was gonna pray for my soul, so that I didn't become one of whatever Eileen was. Hah! Stuff him, didn't work did it… But if I had. I'd be stupid, but … HAPPY. Such a silly word. Lily would be whatever Fate had intended for her. If I had only stopped trying to mend what wasn't broken. So God damn afraid of them breaking that I broke them myself.**

**No use in denying it, I did it – I killed Lily. If I could have just died too… I didn't know what else to believe in. But then there was him. And his eyes, they said, looked just like hers. Those eyes I missed so much. Her baby boy. Harry. He had made her happy, truly happy, and she had died for that happiness, for his happiness, for love. She had always set too much store by love. She was right, of course. This tiny child, the only one to make her truly happy. I don't think I could bear the thought that Lily was gone knowing she had done nothing for this world, because there had been so much inside her, so much good. Now this child is all that's left.**

**Love will go on. Isn't what they all say. Lily died for this world, for Love, for this child, and I aim to do the same. I could not love Lily the way she should have been loved. How could I? I didn't love myself. And now I never can. James had made her happy though, for a time. Another thing I ruined. Geez, I'm good. My sarcasm really does need working on. I aim to get that right one day.**

**Think of it this way. That baby loved her, let her love him, and I took that away. Funny the way the past comes to catch us up. Oh well. Payback time. Sometimes the mind can be the cruelest thing, but the heart can be crueler still.**

**Harry Potter is coming, Dumbledore says. I just stare at some object on a shelf. Pomphrey screams. "Little Harry? Lily's Harry?" She just had to say that name, didn't she! Dumbledore nods. The women start on about all they know about James and Lily and all they've heard about Harry. I take my leave of that conversation. Now don't start counting the days, that'd just be obsessed. Okay, gotta think about something else. It's jolly good there's always Potions. Lily liked Potions too, damn. Okay, I'm gonna ban all words starting with "L", that could work.**

**They're right. His eyes are just like Lily's. I do hope he isn't one of those "look into my eyes" types. Cos I've kind of got out of the habit. Knowing Dumbledore, he'll probably tell me it's old age catching up with me. Old age?! He should talk! I don't even know how old he is, but it's OLD.**

**Lily, Lily, Lily. Don't know what I'm gonna do about that boy. It's like Trouble's just out to get him, and of course not forgetting the Dark Lord too. When did my life get so complicated? When I met Lily Evans. How can a four-year-old get it all so wrong? Doomed from the start. God, I am getting old. I hate clichés! H-A-T-E. Get over yourself, Severus. Could be a good idea. But I wonder… Lucius once told me that chics dig guys who love themselves. Okay, since when did I ever listen to that… I believe the word is whacked, but Pomphrey prefers to use unbalanced. I'm glad. See, now I'm not whacked, I'm just unbalanced. Pomphrey's philosophy is that chics don't dig whacked – they dig unbalanced though. Pomphrey scares me so much some times. I swear that woman's something else. But I guess it shows, she's still hung up on Dumbledore. I wonder if he's caught on? Guess I could ask him one day… Nah.**

oOo

And just like that it was over. No more words, empty pages. Ron felt somehow empty. It was like a book where the ending turned out to be a bit of a let down. But this wasn't a story, this was real.


	14. Chapter 14

**If Memories Could Kill**

Pansy thumped herself down at the desk and stared at the writing on the board without noticing it. He mind was full of cobwebs and dark alleyways that ended in dead-ends and towering walls.

oOo

_Ron sat gibbering to Harry about Quidditch. Hermione was buttering some toast whilst trying to read a chapter on Transfiguration from some big old book. Ron stared across at her, amused. He frowned. Pansy Parkinson strode over, most unlike her usual walk, and planted herself in a chair beside Hermione. Gazing around the Gryffindor table she swept the hair from her eyes and turned to Harry and Ron. "You two boys do realize we have a Charms test today, don't you?" Hermione started at the unfamiliar voice and looked up, appalled. Pansy smiled at her. "Hello."_

_Hermione gaped, her eyes wide. "What… Get lost!"_

_Pansy seemed taken aback. Her eyes filled with watery tears. "Oh what the heck! Why do I bother being nice to you people? I am so stupid." She brushed her tears away angrily. "And I'm not trying to make a come on at your darling James if that's what you think!" she retorted and stormed off._

"_Ja- What?" Hermione turned to Harry, who shrugged._

_Ron stood up. "Lily, wait!"_

_Harry choked on the pumpkin juice he had been drinking. Pansy turned at the door and glared at him. "I will not wait. And I am not going to listen to another word that comes out of your mouth. You and Potter are just the same! I'd have a better chance talking to Severus than you lot!"_

_Ron scowled. "Severus?! Since when are you two on first name terms?"_

"_Go to Hell, Sirius! And take Potter with you!"_

_Ron started forward. "That wasn't a very nice thing to say."_

"_I DON'T CARE!"_

"_Lily, please, you're making a scene!"_

"_OH, AM I? I thought that was your department. Not jealous are you? No matter, I won't stick around to bother you any longer with my filthy mudblood gibberish!" And with that she disappeared from view, her footsteps echoing down the hall._

_Ron ran to the door and screamed down the hall. "LILY, I RESENT THAT YOU WOULD SAY THAT! I WOULD NEVER CALL YOU A MUDBLOOD AND I DON'T THINK OF YOU AS ONE! OH STUFF YOU EVANS, TAKE A HIKE OFF GRYFINDOR TOWER IF YOU'RE THAT MISERABLE WITH THE WORLD. THERE! ISN'T THAT WHAT YOU WANTED ME TO SAY? SILLY COW!"  
Ron returned to Gryffindor table, his face very red, and sat back between Harry and Hermione. "What? Quit staring at me for once James. You are so ridiculous! Didn't you hear her? She'd rather talk to that… Well you know who I mean, than you! Oh, forget it. Why do I bother when all you do is sit there and stare at me like some crazy person? Let her run off to her darling Teddy! See if I care! Hell no! Your loss! Good luck to him!" Ron stood up too, and then he stopped and turned back to Harry, his eyes wide. He clapped a hand over his mouth. "Harry?" And then he started laughing madly._

"_Are you mad?" Harry asked faintly._

_Ron nodded. "I…" he gasped, "most…" another gasp, "cer… tain… ly… am… not!"_

oOo

Pansy sat up in her chair, shaking from head to toe. Professor Flitwick was staring at her as though he was sure she would internally combust any moment now. "I…" she began. She fell short and ran from the room, leaving her books behind on her desk.

She was losing it. Her last year of school, and she had to go acting like a crazy woman! She tore down the hall at some ridiculous speed, heading not for her dormitory but Moaning Myrtle's bathroom instead. No one would think to look for her in there.

oOo

_Her feet slipped and stumbled across rock and earth. Twigs and branches scratched at her arms and legs; weeds slapping about her ankles as she ran, her heart bounding in her chest; the moon riding in the sky above her like a boat in the ocean. If she could just get free of the woods, then she would be able to Apparate. The trees started to thin. Her heart gladdened. Home was in sight. Shadows danced and darted at her side. She was there. She would be home soon! Her heart stopped. Lucius Malfoy stood in her path, stock still, his wand pointing at her chest. She had lost. She was dead!_

oOo

Ron pulled her towards him in a comforting hug. Her eyes were wide in her face. She fought against his hold, scratching, biting, snarling, screaming. But Ron had a good hold on her. She was not getting away. She fell limp in his arms, a mere rag doll blessed with breath and blood. She sobbed into his shoulder uselessly, but he didn't care. "It's okay," he told her, "they can't hurt you. It's just a memory." Ron was not fooled by his words, or the sweet sincerity with which they had been uttered, but he hoped she would be. Memories could kill!


	15. Chapter 15

**In Search of Answers**

Ron rubbed his eyes tiredly. He had been sitting in the library for nearing on an hour and still hadn't found anything of use. All of the Divinatory books were very half-hearted. _Come off it, like anybody really takes Divination seriously! What did you honestly expect?_ It was not normal to be recalling memories that weren't your own, not even in the magical world. Therefore he concluded that she had to be some sort of psychic. He thumped his head down the large book he had been reading. It was no use!

oOo

Ron told himself he was crazy. None-the-less he found himself heading towards the room at the very top of the tower that a certain Professor of Divination called her classroom. He had never believed the woman had any extraordinary psychic powers, but there it was – the one fact, she had been the one to make the prophecy about Harry.

He reached the door, glad that it had not been further, his legs were killing him. He hated that stupid winding staircase. Hesitantly at first, he knocked. A light voice answered him. "Come in, my dear."

Ron rolled his eyes. Just because she made one prediction doesn't mean she knows everything. She didn't know who had come to visit her, that's why she had address him as "my dear" rather than using his name. He smiled to himself, pushing open the door and stepping inside. The room was very dark and smelt of smudge sticks and cheap sherry. Argh, Ron thought to himself, if I was gonna drink anything I wouldn't drink sherry, the stuff's grosse. "It's Mr. Weasley," he announced loudly, unsure of the woman's whereabouts in the room. She was standing by the window and now turned wildly to Ron, her eyes wide behind her thick glasses. Ron didn't like the effect. It gave him the creeps but he wasn't about to let on.

"I am pleased to see you are all well, as I of course knew you would be."

"Of course, Professor," he replied politely.

"And what brings you to this little corner of the castle, Mr. Weasley – if I may ask?"

Ron nodded. "I have no problem with you asking. I understand the cosmos is generally rather vague owing to the fact that it is so large. I don't expect you to know the exact reason I am here. You're not a mind reader, after all."

"No," the woman scowled, "that little bastard upped and left us." Ron blinked. She had definitely had way too much sherry, but he liked her thinking. "Your mind is troubled, child, and you have come to me seeking guidance?"

"Err… yeah," Ron replied.

Professor Trelawney nodded. "What is it that you believe I can assist you with, Mr. Weasley?"

"It's, erm, it's… about visions."

Professor Trelawney frowned. "Visions? What sort of visions, my dear?"

Secretly Ron was glad that she wasn't a mind reader. "Erm, memories… memories that don't belong to… me."

"Hmm… You have been having these… visions?"

"Yeah."

She stood and thought for quite some time. "It is clearly a psychic ability of sorts… About these memories, have they all been of the past?"

Ron frowned. "I think so, yeah."

Professor Trelawney resumed her nodding. "These sort of psychic abilities are very interesting. I would most likely say that they are triggered by some sort of connection to the memory-holder being established."

"Connection?"

"Yes. Say… a piece of jewelry that person used to own. Have these visions been very clear or would you rather refer to them as hazy?"

"Oh, clear, very clear."

"Yes… This would indicate a strong connection. And these visions, have they been of anyone you know, a family member perhaps?"

"No, why?"

"Blood… genetics… These sort of connections are very strong."

Ron's mind was racing. Blood… Genetics… He shook his head. "No, I don't know the person whose memories they were, never seen them before in my life," he told her in a hollow voice.

"Hmm…" she fell short, pondering something.

"I did, erm, get this old book for my birthday though," he lied.

"Ah, yes, that could likely be it. Sometimes people leave very strong imprints of their personalities upon items that they once owned. Yes, I suspect you have found your answer, Mr. Weasley."


	16. Chapter 16

**The Fate That Was Sealed**

_Lily stood by the sink, her hand plunged deep in hot soapy water, her eyes lost in thought. Sirius and James were talking in the next room. She had put Harry to bed some time ago and was now doing the dishes. James never knew why she bothered washing up by hand, always said she should just use her wand and get it over with, but he didn't understand, it gave her time to think or time to day-dream. The artificial neon strip hummed above her head. The room smelt of mosquito coils and citronella candles. The fumes made her dizzy and gave her a sick feeling in her stomach._

_A hand reached around her waist and turned her around, away from the sink. Peter. She frowned. He backed her up against the cold hard sink. "What do you want?" she whispered, her hot breath brushing his face._

"_I've come to say goodnight."_

_He was drunk. She hated Sirius. She leant across and breathed in his ear. "Goodnight, Peter. Sleep tight, don't let the muggle bugs bite."_

_He shut his eyes for a moment before pulling away from her. "Your hair looks nice. Did you do something to it?"_

_She smiled. "Just shampoo?"_

_He smiled back. "Tell James and Sirius I said 'goodnight'."_

_Lily nodded. He turned to go. She took his arm. "Thanks for doing this, really."_

_He took a deep breath but didn't meet her eyes. "No probs, Mrs. Potter." His voice was cheery again._

_Lily looked scandalized. "You…" Her hand fell limp at her side. She nodded. "Be well."_

_Peter stopped in the doorway. He looked upset for a moment before he smiled. "I will. You just do the same. And, oh…" He dashed back over, his hands behind his back. "A goodnight kiss?"_

_Lily giggled. "You're so silly!" She brushed the hair from her face so he could kiss her head. She gasped. He had seized her wrists and pushed her up against the wall. He kissed her on the mouth. She pushed him away frantically. "Peter!"_

_He looked at his feet, ashamed. "I… I'm sorry." He held out his wand. She snatched it off him._

"_Oh, you idiot! I don't want to curse you!" She held out her arms. "Come here." She pulled him into a hug. "Go now."_

_James was laughing about something Sirius had said. Lily returned to the sink. She started to cry, and it scared her._


	17. Chapter 17

**Reach Out For Me**

Pansy sat by the lake, staring blankly out across the vast stretches of calm water. She recalled the dream she had been having before she had woken up and came out to the lake to watch the sunrise. She wasn't usually one to get up early, certainly not before the sun had even risen, but she had to be somewhere calm. She couldn't stand the way she felt inside during those dreams when she recalled a life that had never been her own. It was as though she was no longer Pansy, as though she were really Lily and she knew nothing but what Lily knew, felt nothing but what Lily felt.

The harsh wind chilled her as it passed her flimsy satin night dress and nipped at her pale skin. Even with her cloak on she didn't feel much better. The cold still got to her, seeped into her bones, into her heart. She found herself staring into the shadowy depths of the lake almost longingly.

There was a sudden crunching noise behind her. She pushed her hands harsh against the cold rock, flinching, and stood. Pulling her cloak tighter about her chest she turned slowly. Ron Weasley stood before her. She took a step back. "I know what you are," he whispered.

She met his eyes, black locked with brown. "You think you know. You don't know the first thing about me!" she breathed with a quiet defiance, her voice windswept but steady.

"Don't I? I know you've been having funny dreams. I know what you can do, so you can drop the act!"

"So, what, I'm a freak now?" Pansy shouted, taking a step towards him, her eyes impossibly wide in her face. "I knew it. Just another filthy Slytherin! Well this filthy Slytherin has had enough! You take away my one chance at happiness-"

"Happiness?!" Ron shouted. _She was mad!_ "You tried to kill yourself! You're God damn crazy! Crazy bloody woman!"

"I WAS HAPPY!" Pansy screamed. "Don't you understand?! I WAS FREE!"

Ron seized her frozen arms and shook her. "You wanted to die! You're bloody sick! Can't you see that? I'm not the one who's bloody fucked up! No – THAT'S YOU!" Pansy hissed and screamed like a crazy animal, struggling to push him away. She leant across and bit into his shoulder. He screamed loudly and let go. She ran across the rocks, her shoes slipping and sliding on the uneven surface, her cloak billowing out behind her in the wind. "You bloody bitch. Crazy bitch!" He took chase. "I'll get you," he screamed, "and then you'll be bloody sorry!"

oOo

Pansy had reached the forest. Her mind never stopped to register that it may be dangerous to enter, her body just kept on carrying her forward. She hurtled through shadow and light, moon beams softly filtering down through the trees. All that she knew was that she had to run, couldn't stop. Her lungs felt like fire within her chest and her heart beat faster than a drum. She had to keep running. _Run! Run and don't stop! Never stop!_ Above the roar of these words nothing else could be heard. She was flying. Her shoe caught in a tree root. She was brought back down to earth with a crash. She screamed out in pain as her ankle twisted and broke. She lay staring up into darkness, her eyes too wide in her face, her heart too fast in her chest, her breath too ragged in her lungs.

oOo

Ron nearly stomped on her as he came charging over. He only noticed her when he heard her moan painfully as she tried to drag herself away from him. He came to an abrupt halt and leant against a tree, the breath tearing his lungs up. God, he had one Hell of a stitch. He couldn't get over how he hadn't noticed it before. "You're fucking fucked up!" he screamed in between his wretched breathing. "I didn't see any of your fucking Slytherin pals saving you from that fucking bitch at the pub in Hogsmead! No, it was fucking me!" he roared. "But I guess I shouldn't have given a fucking toss! You're just a fucking bloody filthy Slytherin after all!" He threw himself down beside her. "Am I right?"

Pansy sobbed, staring determinately in the opposite direction. Ron seized a handful of her hair. "AM. I. RIGHT?!" She didn't answer, just shook her head, mumbling to herself in the back of her throat. "You're fucking crazy!" Ron screamed back at her. He thumped her head into the ground, disgusted. After a minute of pacing he threw himself down beside her and stared up at the brightening sky. It would be morning soon. Pansy had stopped sobbing but tears still ran down her face like wax down a candle as it burnt. Ron couldn't stand to look at her. "Sorry okay," he mumbled, not looking at her. Tears continued to fall down her face in torrents. He sat up and planted himself on top of her chest. "I SAID I'M SORRY!" he screamed. This seemed to stop her tears by mere shock. Ron saw the look in her eyes and wanted to die. He fell on top of her heavily. "I'm sorry," he whispered close to her ear. He started to sob.

Pansy reached out shaking hands and stroked his hair. Ron sat up and stared back at her with eyes full of tears. Tears ran down his freckled cheeks and landed on her face. She ran a shaking hand across the side of his face. "I'm sorry too," she breathed. She reached up with her other hand and brought his face down to hers. Ron shut his eyes. She kissed him, tasting his salty lips. They lay in each others arms. The sun rose unnoticed and life awoke all around them.

oOo

Pansy sat in the hospital wing while Madame Pomphrey mended her broken ankle. Ron sat on one of the metal beds across from the two females, kicking his legs back and forth. "How exactly did you break your ankle in the first place?" Madame Pomphrey asked. Pansy stared down at her broken ankle. The older woman placed her hand on it lightly. Pansy screamed. "That's definitely broken," Madame Pomphrey confirmed.

"God," Pansy hollered, "Did you really have to do that?"

Madame Pomphrey smiled wickedly. That made Ron smirk. "Had to be sure."

"Sure you did!" Madame Pomphrey flicked her wand, muttering a healing charm under her breath.

"All fixed."

Pansy turned her ankle from side to side, flinching expectantly. "Thanks." Madame Pomphrey nodded.

"I don't work here for nothing, you know?" Pansy smirked. She leant across and whispered something in the nurse's ear. Ron frowned. It was too quiet for him to hear. Madame Pomphrey laughed. "Very well, off to breakfast with you now," she told the girl, straightening up. Ron jumped off the bed.

"Don't you worry," he told the older woman, "She'll be back soon enough. Trouble's her middle name. I'm starting to think she has more and more in common with Potter everyday. He can't get enough of trouble either."

Madame Pomphrey laughed again. She ran a hand across her head. "You may have a point there Mr. Weasley."

Ron nodded. "Thanks again," Pansy told the nurse, then she leant forward and hugged her. Madame Pomphrey blushed before she hurried off. Pansy joined Ron at the door and they strolled out into the hall. "She misses Dumbledore," Pansy told him.

Ron nodded. "Poor thing. What did you tell her before that made her laugh?"

"I told her I was chasing after you cos I wanted to biff you one seeing as you keep on giving us such crap Potions grades."

Ron frowned. "I'm sorry about how I acted before."

Pansy smiled. "Already forgotten, just be sure to get me some nice chocolates for Easter."

Ron laughed. "Now that's blackmail for ya!"

Pansy nodded seriously. "I am a Slytherin. You know what they say." Ron stopped and turned to her seriously. When she noticed that he had stopped she turned and walked back over to where he stood. She frowned. Ron suddenly smirked and pushed her in the shoulder. He dashed up the hall. Pansy screamed and took chase. She caught him at the corner and pushed him into the wall. "Say sorry, young man!"

"No way."

"Don't you be pushing me into making you tell me now!" She put on a mock serious expression.

Ron burst into laughter. She looked just like a certain ex-Head of Slytherin House when he got grumpy. "That's just priceless, that is!"

Pansy slouched, her hands on either side of him. "Don't laugh!" she said babyishly. She held a hand over his mouth. "I am your Lord and Mistress! You must obey me! Aww, crap, I take it that only works for McGonagall?"

Ron nodded feverishly. "Damn straight!" Pansy killed herself laughing, hitting her hand against the wall beside him. Ron watched her laughing. She was shaking her head, trying to tell herself to breathe. Something clicked into place in Ron's head. She hadn't just looked like Snape, her eyes looked exactly like his! Pansy stopped laughing once she saw the look Ron was giving her, a mixture between horror and anger. She backed away so he was no longer trapped against the wall. "Can I ask about your parents?"

Pansy looked away from him, to the window. "You can try but there's nothing to tell."

"How do you mean?"

"Never knew my parents." Pansy shrugged as though she was indifferent about this fact. Ron could see how much it hurt her.

"So, um-"

"I've lived in St. Mungo's all my life. It hasn't been that bad. I mean, at least there's no bitching over whose turn it is to do the washing up after dinner." She laughed, but Ron wasn't fooled. He knew how hard it was on Harry not having known his parents. Don't think about Harry, he told himself.

"So you don't even know their names?"

Pansy shook her head brightly. "No."

"And you've never had any…" he fell short.

Pansy tossed her head. "Any feeling or visions?" Ron nodded, blushing. "Yeah, well," she rolled her eyes and fell short.

"Trelawney said-"

"You told her!" Pansy seized him by the shoulders.

Ron held up his hands. "Cool it! I didn't tell her it was you! I said it was me okay!"

Pansy huffed. "And what did she have to say for herself, then?" She didn't really want to know but she asked anyway.

"She said the visions depended on a connection. The stronger the connection, the stronger the vision."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Dah!" Ron widened his eyes. Pansy frowned. "What? God damn it! Spit it out already!"

"I think Lily might be your mother," he said in a rush. He knew how sick it sounded and he wanted to kick himself for saying it, but he had just had to say it.

Pansy burst into a fresh fit of laughter.

"She's Harry's mother I know. But I don't think James is your father."

Pansy suddenly seemed to catch on to what he was saying. She ceased laughing and screamed hysterically. "You some kind of head job or something?!"

Ron turned away from her, stared at his boots instead. "I'm serious," he mumbled.

Pansy's heart sunk. "No!" She prodded him in the chest. "No! I'm not right in the head! They did horrible things to me in that place. Things that made me crazy." She was frantically trying to talk herself out of believing.

Ron's heart caught in his chest. "They did things to you? Why?" He almost didn't want to hear the answer.

Pansy laughed manically. "Drugs. Electrocution. They said I was mad. Said I was evil to see the things I saw. To know the things I knew."

"What?"

"I'm not lying!" Pansy screamed. "They were right – I am mad! Can't you see it in my eyes?!"

"No," Ron whispered. "And you're not crazy!"

Pansy seized him by the front of his clothes. Her head fell forward on to his shoulder and she cried. "Why didn't you let me die?"

"That's not something I could do. I'm sorry." They had reached the Great Hall. Ron sighed.


	18. Chapter 18

**The Happy Days Are Now**

Pansy sat in the library staring blankly out the window. Ron sat with his two friends at another table across the room. Pansy turned back to the teacher. Professor McGonagall was talking, her mouth was moving, but it was as though someone had pressed the mute button. Pansy stared hard at the old woman, willing herself to understand. It was no use. Her head was numb, fuzzy. All she could hear was this horrible buzzing. She focused on the face before her as if attempting to read the woman's lips. Professor McGonagall waved a hand towards the shelving behind her. She clapped her hands. "Get to it!" She turned and swept off. The librarian stopped her at the door.

Pansy looked away. She reached a hand up to her head. Her head was pounding. Students started to stand. They huddled in groups and traipsed off towards the books. Pansy stood up also. The room swayed and moved in and out of focus. She gripped the chair hard but her hands were sweaty. She slipped forward. Her hands reached out in front of her and grabbed onto the table to stop her from falling. She stood like that for a while, her eyes closed, just listening to her own racing heart and uneven breathing.

"You okay?" It was a girl's voice. Pansy turned, leaning on the desk, her shaking hands steadied on the table edge behind her. She blinked. Bushy hair and brown eyes stared back at her. She thought hard to recall the girl's query. "Bit tired, 's all."

The girl nodded, massaging her hands as if searching for something else to say. A tall red haired boy stepped forward. "So are we gonna do this thing or not?"

Hermione frowned. "Yeah, we'd better start before McGonagall gets in one of those moods." She exchanged knowing looks with the two teens beside her.

"Mmm," Harry nodded. "Look like we're doing something at any rate."

Ron grinned, shaking his head. "Harry, Harry, Harry! How could you even think of suggesting such a thing to us young impressionable minds?"

Harry rolled his eyes. Pansy nodded to the door. Harry, Hermione and Ron turned to see who had just entered. Madame Pomphrey stood in the doorway, looking a little glum. She appeared to be following the conversation between Professor McGonagall and the librarian. It was quite clear however that her mind was far away, her eyes were dull and non-committal.

"She really does miss Dumbledore," Ron said.

Harry and Hermione nodded. Pansy let go of the desk and strode across the room to the door. The three Gryffindors made after her. "Madame Pomphrey."

The glum woman looked up. "Oh. Good morning, Miss Parkinson."

"Is, isn't it." Pansy smiled.

"So… How… how are you?"

Pansy clapped her hands together, smiling for real now. "Managing. Just managing." She shook her head happily in a confusing sort of manner. "But I guess that's all we can really do."

"It is."

Pansy looked up from the ring on her finger she had been twisting. "Madame Pomphrey?"

"Yes?"

"I was wondering… I, um… Wondering if you had any old Potions books?"

Madame Pomphrey smiled. "As it happens…" her gaze seemed to fall out of focus as though she were recalling a memory from her past, "I do."

Pansy blinked, tilting her head slightly. She was smiling once more. "Would you mind if I read them?"

The old woman looked up into the girl's eyes. She shook her head. "No." Pansy leant forward and hugged her. "Thank you," the old woman whispered.

The four teens turned to regard their teacher who had been gazing at them. She smiled briefly and turned back to the woman she was talking to. Pansy smiled, tilting her head onto her shoulder. She sucked her bottom lip for a moment before turning to the three Gryffindors. Then the four of them turned and silently made their way to the back of the library where the rest of their class mates had already started their research.

oOo

Ron sat with Pansy in the hospital wing. They were reading some of Madame Pomphrey's old Potions books. Ron frowned. Madame Pomphrey came over with a few more books she had found and placed them down on the table in front of the two teens. "Some stupid little boy decided he wanted to scribble all over my precious books," she told him, noting his troubled expression.

Ron gazed up into her face. "Snape?"

Madame Pomphrey flinched and looked away determinately. She nodded, staring at a bottle on one of the shelves. "Severus." She sniffed and walked away.

"Stupid little bugger!" Pansy growled. "Didn't his mother ever teach him it was rude to write on books?"

Ron looked across at her. She was smiling sadly. Ron stared down at the tiny writing all over the Potions book he was reading. _Funny how life turned out…_


	19. Chapter 19

**Where Are You Now My Love?**

_Lily sat up in her bed, straight and stock still save her beating heart and trembling body. Her eyes were wide in fright. She stared down at the man who lay beside her, peacefully asleep – her husband. She didn't understand herself. This was the man she had married, had sworn to love for the rest of her mortal life, had once believed she could love till the end of Time. Yet now he seemed so distant: his arms alien to her, his words misunderstood and harsh; his smile cold. Every day she forced herself to act out the role of the loving wife, act like she was good old Lily – same as ever – like nothing had ever happened. When he hugged her she longed to be in the arms of another. When he kissed her her lips felt like stone. When he spoke to her she drew cold. She saw how much this man loved her and it killed her that she couldn't love him back, felt like a stake to her heart. She would rather have died than hurt her husband. But every night she was dreaming in her dreams. This place called home felt strange to her. She felt the floor beneath her feet, the walls around her, the happy pictures that smiled and waved from the mantle above the fire. All of these things, however, would not – could not – seep into her heart, and her heart remained as cold as snowflakes on the broken glass windows of an abandoned old house. Every night before sunrise she woke and waited. Waited for an impossible dream that she only dared to dream in her dreams. "Teddy?"_

**

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Amended End Notes

The end!

If there are any songs that I left out of the disclaimer – I have a feeling there is – I don't own them and they are most likely sung by Jackie Trent.

Feedback is very much welcomed and appreciated.


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